


Waste of Space

by fiddleblocks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi, polyship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-02-16 06:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 47,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2259780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddleblocks/pseuds/fiddleblocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of Voldemort’s death, there’s a lot of fixing up to do. Not all of the damage is visible. Many people are finding it difficult to sort through the wreckage of their own lives but some remember the weapon that Voldemort knew not and there inlay their best chance of healing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aftermath

The days following Voldemort’s death were a blur for Ronald Weasley. He received so many pats on the back, he had a red-mark in the vague shape of a hand that wouldn’t fade even three days after he’d returned to the Burrow. He’d stayed on to fix things up but Harry had wandered off in the night almost as soon as everyone had gone to bed the day after the big battle. Ron had been pleased to see Neville finally getting the attention he deserved even if he seemed overwhelmed by all the love and affection.

Everyone was hugging. Hermione hugged him several times a day until she went off to Australia. That was the day Ron went back to the Burrow. He would have stayed to help with the clean up for a bit longer but, well… Hermione had broken things off with him and Ron just wanted to go off and find Harry.

Hermione had been kind, she’d assured Ron that she still wanted to be his friend and it was for that very reason that she didn’t want to date him. It was okay by Ron, really. He was a bit hurt but somewhat relieved as well and as soon as she disapparated from Hogsmeade, Ron felt almost like a weight had been lifted off his chest. But he still really wanted to see Harry. Harry was his best mate. Harry would be able to help him sort out the confusion, the disappointment, the hurt and the strange relief. 

Ron was no good with emotions.

Unfortunately for him, when he got home to the Burrow, it was to find the place had been trashed by Death Eaters. His mother and Ginny were working outside when he arrived and they’d both immediately enlisted his help with the clean up. That took four days. Even with all the Weasleys helping (well, minus the twins and it gave Ron a pang to think about but it was nothing to how George must have been feeling. George hadn’t spoken a single word since the war ended and often sat quietly in the garden or else wandered around the Burrow as if looking for Fred). The sight of his older brother’s despair, the sound of his parents crying in the night often accompanied by George’s was too much for Ron. He wanted out. 

He wanted to find Harry.

It was another week before he could convince his mother to let him leave. She looked pale and frightened, older than before as she told him to be careful, there were still Death Eaters about and all sorts of vile creatures could be lurking. Ron hugged her and told her he’d be back and he made a point to let George know where he was going. He thought he saw George almost smile at the sound of Harry’s name but it was so fleeting that Ron just brushed it off, ruffled George’s hair and left. 

He checked Grimmauld, even though he knew Harry wouldn’t be there. He just had to see. Even Kreacher wasn’t around. Ron didn’t know if the Elf would be with Harry or not. He stood in the drawing room and called out the elf’s name, not really expecting to hear a ‘crack!’ and have Kreacher appear. “Master’s Wheezy requires something of Kreacher?” the elf muttered, bowing low to Ron.

“Er… surprised you came!” Ron blurted out. “I thought you only came when your master called you?”

“Master has given Kreacher the freedom to serve whoever he likes, Kreacher will come when Master’s Wheezy calls because Master’s Wheezy is an important wizard.”

Ron went pink around the ears and wondered vaguely when Kreacher had started referring to him by the old nickname Dobby used to call him. Ron felt a pang for Dobby and made a mental note to visit the deceased elf’s grave. “W-well, thanks, Kreacher.”

“Is Master’s Wheezy perhaps hungry?” Kreacher asked.

“Please just call me ‘Ron,’ okay?” Ron glanced around. “I called you because, well, I’ve no idea where Harry is and I’ve heard house elves can fi-” Ron was cut off when Kreacher grabbed him by the arm and there was a dizzying sensation of being spun and pressed inward on himself before they landed in the graveyard at Godric’s Hollow. “What?” Kreacher pointed beyond a large statue and pressed a finger to his lips and then disapparated. Presumably because there were muggles in this village who would be very startled by the sight of a house elf. 

Though Ron had never been to Godric’s Hollow before, he knew instantly where he was. The statue Kreacher had pointed toward transformed into a carving of baby Harry being held by his parents when Ron approached it. Ron stared at the ornate statue in wonderment for several heart-beats and then walked around, glancing at the headstones and searching for a mop of messy, black hair.

He found Harry kneeling in front of his parents graves. Harry looked even thinner, more ragged than before and he didn’t seem to notice Ron until the redhead knelt beside him. “‘Lo,” Ron murmured, patting Harry on the shoulder. “H-hello, Mr. and Mrs. Potter,” Ron said awkwardly to their graves.

“I was just telling them about you,” Harry said in a strangely flat voice.

“Only good stuff, I hope?” Ron chuckled.

“That’s all there is to say,” Harry gave Ron a wavering smile. “C’mon.” He stood and started walking toward the kissing gate that marked the entrance and exit. “My parents’ house was half blown up. Neville and Luna have been helping me fix it. Come have a look.” 

“You decided you want to live there then?” Ron asked.

“Yeah. I stayed in London for a bit but…” Harry shrugged. “Keep thinking of Sirius pacing around the place and, well… plenty of other horrible memories. I don’t remember living here as a baby so I haven’t got any bad memories of it.” They turned down a lane and walked up to Harry’s parents old house. It sat next to a vacant lot that looked as though it had once had a house on it that had since been burned down. It gave Ron the chills to look at the scorched earth so he turned his attention back to Harry’s house. It looked like an ordinary house to Ron although it was prickling with magic. There had obviously been a large number of spells performed on it recently. Neville was in the garden, weeding and planting seeds by hand while Luna was charming the outside of the house clean. 

“Oh, you’re back already,” Luna said, beaming the way she always did once Ron and Harry were within hailing distance. “And you’ve brought Ronald along!” She hopped down from the porch and touched Neville’s arm. “We should be going, Neville.”

“I’m not quite done yet, though.” Neville stood and dusted the dirt off his hands. “Hey, Ron!” he said. “I’d give you a hug, but you’d get covered in dirt.”

“I’ll take a raincheck, then,” Ron said. Luna was already hugging him. “You two have been helping Harry with his house?” 

Luna and Neville shared an unfathomable look. “Yes,” Luna said after an unnaturally long pause. “But I think it’s really time we got going, Neville.” She gave him a pointed look. “I’m sure Harry and Ronald have much to discuss.”

Neville’s brow furrowed in confusion. “W-well, alright.”

“You guys don’t have to leave,” Harry said in that same flat voice he’d been using all along. It was really starting to bother Ron.

“Yes we do,” Luna said, looping an arm through Neville’s and frog-marching him toward the gate. “It’s been lovely, Harry but, really, I think you and Ronald need some time alone.” She kissed Harry on the nose as she walked by and shook Ron’s hand before disapparating with Neville. 

Ron laughed. “Oh boy, she’s something else, that Luna. Always great to see her.”

Harry hummed thoughtfully and then headed up the wooden wrap-around deck to the front door. “Come in. Kreacher’s probably already cooking something.” Ron followed Harry feeling distinctly ruffled. He’d expected Harry to be a bit off but this was… well, Ron wasn’t sure what was going on in Harry’s head but he wanted to know very badly.

Ron plopped down on what was clearly a brand new sofa and Harry sank onto it beside him. “How’d you find me?” he asked. “You weren’t around when me and Hermione came here that time.”

“I went to Grimmauld first,” Ron said. “Called out to Kreacher.” Ron shrugged. “I didn’t expect him to show up. You know…” Ron shifted on the stiff, new-smelling cushion. It didn’t feel lived on. It wasn’t comfortable. “He’s started calling me your wheezy. Like, er, Dobby used to.”

Harry’s expression turned pinched at the mention of Dobby. “Elves are funny.”

“Dunno if I’d call it funny.” Ron shrugged. “S’alright, though. Kreacher can do what he likes. He’s been through a lot in his old life.”

“That’s true…” Harry looked down at his hands and then back up at Ron. “H-how are the other Weasleys?”

Ron sighed. “I won’t lie, George is a complete mess. Mum and Dad are pretty broken up, too. Charlie and Bill have been great, though. Keeping people’s minds off of stuff but George… well, there’s nothing anybody can say to him.”

Harry’s hands were shaking now. “I’m so sorry, Ron-”

“Don’t start, it wasn’t your fault,” Ron said more gently than he ordinarily would have done. Harry just looked so broken, fragile. Ron wanted to gather Harry into his arms and protect him somehow. “Everybody that chose to fight knew there was a chance they wouldn’t survive. It wasn’t just about you. You were just the figure everyone rallied behind but it would’ve gone about the same no matter who the hero was. People would have died. People were already dying. You saved a lot more people than Voldemort killed.” It seared at his throat, saying that name and made Ron feel like he wanted to throw up but Harry’s reaction was worth it.

Harry finally met Ron’s gaze when the name left his lips and there was a look of shock that slowly dissolved into one of bemused pride. Harry punched Ron on the arm. “Suppose I can’t really praise you for finally calling him by his proper name. It’s harder to be terrified of a dead man.”

“Yeah, well, the Bloody Baron is still pretty scary.” Ron chuckled, glad to see some energy and light back in Harry. 

“I suppose you’re right…” Harry trailed off, and then frowned like he’d just remembered something. “How come Hermione isn’t with you? Did she head to Australia for her parents?”

How had Ron forgotten? The whole reason he’d so anxious to see Harry was to tell him about Hermione dumping him. Ron was silently berating himself so long that Harry called his name twice before Ron noticed. “Er, sorry, yeah, Hermione went to Australia about a week ago or… something. Dunno. I’ve lost track of time.” Ron cleared his throat. “We, er… we’re not… y’know… um.” 

Harry raised eyebrows at Ron’s stammering. “You and Hermione aren’t a couple you mean?” Ron nodded. “Why not?”

“She said something about how she’s afraid our friendship will end up being ruined and… w-well, kissing her wasn’t what I expected.” Ron laughed.

“Oh come off it, you looked pretty into it at the time,” Harry reminded him.

“Well, yeah, during the heat of battle and stuff…” Ron’s ears were tomato red at this point. “But I mean later, I kissed her again later and, well, it was a bit like kissing Auntie Muriel.” Ron rubbed his face, thoroughly embarrassed. 

“Hermione is loads prettier than your aunt, Ron…” Harry said, sounding almost offended.

“Don’t be like that, that’s not what I meant.” Ron shook his head. “I mean, it.. it didn’t feel like I expected, you know? I fancied her for so long, I was expecting some kind of- I dunno- fireworks but it was more like a tiny little spark. Pathetic, really.”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe you’ll both feel differently once things have calmed down.”

“Maybe…” Although Ron doubted it. “So, er, are you and Ginny going to get back together, you think?”

Harry shook his head. “It’s nothing against her, honest. She’s very beautiful and an extremely talented witch, any bloke would be lucky to have her.”

“Yeah, but she wants you.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not right for her.”

“Why not?” Now it was Ron’s turn to sound offended. “I’m sure you still need time to sort things out but why not even think about getting back with her in future when things are-”

“What? When things are normal? Calm? Since when have I ever had a right to expect anything normal or calm?” Harry sounded angry. The surge of anger was so sudden that it took Ron aback. “Ever since I was a year old, my life has been one insane, miserable experience after another. I can’t expect that to stop just because Voldemort is dead now.”

Ron was so startled by Harry’s anger and his fatalistic attitude that it took him a moment to collect his thoughts enough to respond. “Okay, well, I don’t see what that has to do with Ginny. Don’t you think she’s aware that dating Harry Potter isn’t quite like dating any other bloke?” Ron rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to just… hole up in here with Kreacher and avoid people are you? I’m not saying you should go out and date right away but don’t write Ginny off. She’ll wait for you.”

Harry’s angry expression crumpled into one of pure, abject misery and he turned away from Ron, staring at the floor. “I’m not right for Ginny,” he repeated with even more conviction.

“Seriously, what does that even mean, mate?” Ron asked. 

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head and shrugging helplessly. 

“Come back to the Burrow.”

“What?” Harry asked, looking up.

“I don’t like this, Harry. You staying here all alone with a mad elf for company it’s too much like Siri-”

“I know, Ron.” Harry crossed his arms over his chest. “But I’m not locked up. I can leave if I want to.”

Ron sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Just… come for a couple weeks at least, alright? My mum’s worrying her head off about you.”

“I can’t impose on your family like that, Ron. Not when I’ve got my own place to live.” Harry rubbed his arms, not meeting Ron’s gaze as he spoke. 

“Don’t be thick, Harry. Talking about my family like they’re not yours as well.” Ron scoffed. “You can’t impose. Charlie and Percy have already gone so the house is emptier than usual and my parents are used to having loads of people around….” Ron trailed off when he noticed that Harry was trying very hard to hide the fact that he was crying.

Oh damn.

Ron had never seen Harry cry before. For a long moment, Ron couldn’t do anything other than stand there in silent shock for a few moments before he gathered his wits and realized the right thing to do would be to comfort him. “C’mon,” Ron said, folding Harry into his arms. “I’m taking you home.” Ron Apparated them straight into his attic bedroom so Harry could compose himself before facing everyone. 

“S-sorry, Ron.” Harry cleared his throat and wiped his face clean with a hastily conjured handkerchief. It was bright blue, Ron noticed. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Ron shifted awkwardly and then sat down on his bed. “I should apologize. I know it’s pretty rude to just apparate with someone like that, especially since you kept going on about how you didn’t want to come here.”

“That- I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” Ron laughed. “Why d’you think I brought you here? You’re always really weird about things you actually want. I’m used to it by now.”

Harry laughed suddenly but quickly stifled it. “Let’s go see your mum. She must already know you’re back unless the Death Eaters smashed the clock.”

“Mum had that hidden away.” Ron stood and walked to the trap door that led down to the landing below. 

“Ronald? Is that you?” Molly’s voice called up the stairs. 

“Yeah,” Ron called back. “I’ll be down in a second.” Ron and Harry hurried down the stairs. Molly was so distracted by her relief at seeing Ron unharmed and back home that she didn’t notice Harry until after she’d released Ron from a bone-bruising hug.

“Oh!” Molly exclaimed, hugging Harry far more gently. “Oh, Harry! I’ve been wondering when you’d come home. Let’s have a look at you.” Molly stepped back but kept her hands on Harry’s shoulders. She had to crane her neck to look up at him now and she had a sad smile on her face when she patted him on the cheek a moment later. “You’ll have extra helpings at all meals. Can I tempt you with something to eat?”

“Not i-”

“It’s nothing, dear.” Molly waved Harry off and went straight to the kitchen. It seemed only moments later that delicious smells came wafting through the gap under the kitchen door. 

Harry looked down at his hands, frowning. “Usually she goes on and on about how thin I am before she starts cooking me food whether I want it or not.” Harry laughed. “So I must look pretty terrible, yeah?”

Ron shrugged. “You look the same to me,” he lied. “But I was in the woods with you while we were both half starved to death so you probably shouldn’t still be as thin as you were then.” Ron shrugged again. 

Harry groaned. “D’you know, I bet I wouldn’t look so bad if I had clothes that fit. All of my muggle clothing belonged to Dudley first and he weighed more when he was five than I do now.”

“Have you, er, heard from the Dursleys at all?” Ron asked, tentatively.

Harry pulled a sour face and shook his head. “I hope I never do. Dunno if they’re alive or dead and I dunno how much I’d care if they were dead.” Harry sighed. “No, that’s not entirely true. Dudley seemed to be growing a brain there at the end. He might end up being worth something one day.” Harry shrugged. 

Ron was startled to hear Harry talk that way about his only living relatives. Of course, he’d heard bits and pieces of what the Dursleys were like over the years from Harry and what he’d seen first hand hadn’t impressed him (bars on Harry’s windows when he was 12? That seemed a lot more horrifying looking back on it than it did at the time). Ron couldn’t imagine he knew the extent of it. 

Ron would never have imagined Harry saying something like not caring if his aunt and uncle died.

There was the sound of some sort of commotion in the kitchen and Ron and Harry hurried in with their wands drawn. “What’s going on, mum?” Ron asked, looking around.

“I dropped a pan, dear, it’s nothing!” Molly said, laughing. “Kreacher startled me. I didn’t hear him come in.”

“Kreacher?” Harry looked around and spotted Kreacher beside the refrigerator, fiddling with his towel. “You followed me?”

“Kreacher did not want Master Harry to be so far away. How will Kreacher look after master Harry when Kreacher is in London and Master Harry is in Ottery St. Catchpole?” 

Harry sighed exasperatedly. 

“I heard a commotio-” Ginny’s voice said behind them all as she poked her head in the door. “Harry!” she exclaimed, hurrying forward to give Harry a hug. Ron noticed that it was friendly and not a moment too long and Ginny was smiling the same as always when she pulled away. “I’m so glad you’re back. We’ve all been worried about you-”

“Harry?” George this time. Ginny, Molly and Ron gaped at George in delight and astonishment. George hadn’t spoken a word in nearly a month but the sight of Harry in the kitchen seemed to reset something in George’s head and he hurried forward to hug Harry as well. George lifted Harry off his feet and held onto him long after it was awkward for everyone in the room.

“Alright, George?” Harry said, patting him on the shoulder. “Could you put me down, please?”

“Of course.” George put Harry on his feet again. For a moment, there was a ghost of the old George shining through the mask of misery and Harry smiled at him.

Fairly soon, the kitchen was crowded, Bill and Arthur having heard the noise and of course they came in to see what all the fuss was about. No one but Ron seemed to notice that Harry was becoming increasingly more upset. Or something. Ron could tell Harry was bothered and he made an excuse to drag Harry back up to his room. “Seemed like you weren’t much enjoying all the attention,” Ron said once they were back within the relative quiet of his room.

“I never have,” Harry said darkly, rubbing his face. “I love your family, really but it’s a bit much when they’re all crowding round and clamoring that way.”

Ron laughed. “Yeah… we can be a lot at once, I expect.”

“Suppose I’ve gotten too used to the quiet. Being out in the wilderness alone with you and Hermione or in Godric’s Hollow. I-I have neighbors and they’re all quite friendly although an old Muggle woman called me ‘James’ the other day and, well, it wasn’t fun to explain to her why her neighbors had disappeared.” 

Harry was rambling. That was unusual, too. Ron looked at him. “Is there something you, er, wanted to talk about?” 

“Why d’you ask?”

Ron tipped his head back and forth, struggling with the right way to word things. “It’s just, you’ve been acting odd ever since I met you in the cemetery.” 

“I have?” Harry sat heavily on the end of Ron’s bed and took off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt. 

Ron sat beside Harry and patted him on the arm. He didn’t miss the way Harry flinched. “Yeah. I dunno how to explain it, exactly. You just seem a-a bit emotional, I suppose. It’s understandable.” Ron chewed on his bottom lip. “I’m really bad at this sort of thing. To be honest, Hermione told me to, er, make sure you talked to someone but you might be better off talking to her than me.”

Harry laughed. “Why is that?”

“Hermione’s smarter than me.” Ron shrugged. “A-anyway, you can talk to me if you want. I just can’t promise I’ll be much help with anything, really.”

Harry stood. “You don’t know it, but you’re already helping. Let’s go eat. Your mum’s cooking smells really good.”

Ron couldn’t shake the strange feeling that something about what Harry had just said had been a lie.


	2. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's settling in at the Burrow. Ron's becoming unsettled by something else entirely.

That night, for the first time since Ron had been home, he didn’t hear any crying. Of course, Harry _looked_ like he was going to cry again a few times that day. Once when Molly had insisted on Harry taking another helping of treacle tart after dinner and once when Bill announced he was headed back home to Fleur. Other than that, Harry was quiet and reserved but otherwise didn’t seem to be behaving oddly at all. 

After dinner, Molly set up a bed for Harry in Ron’s room without even inquiring about where Harry wanted to sleep. The beds were situated only a few feet apart because of the relatively small size of Ron’s room. Ron didn’t mind. He was glad actually. He felt better when Harry was within reach.

It was when Ron closed his eyes that he suddenly vividly remembered how Harry would often writhe and cry out in his sleep. Of course, some of those had been Harry seeing into Voldemort’s head. The ones when Harry was just dreaming inside his own mind were somehow worse for Ron to see happening. He didn’t thrash about as much when they weren’t visions but Harry spoke in his sleep and sounded frightened. Every time Ron heard Harry cry out for his mum or dad in his sleep over the years, it pierced his chest like a hot knife. 

“Ron?” Harry whispered, breaking Ron out of his thoughts about nightmares. 

“What’s up?” Ron replied.

“I, er, I don’t want to talk about things now but when I do, I’d really prefer to speak with you about them, if that’s alright.” Harry spoke half in a rush and half haltingly. It was almost difficult for Ron to understand what Harry was saying. 

“‘Course it is.” Ron chucked a spare pillow at Harry. “Get some sleep. Sweet dreams.”

Harry laughed.

Ron didn’t get much sleep that night. He kept glancing across the room at the dark lump in the bed next to him, watching for signs of distress. But Harry seemed to be sleeping soundly. It was almost more unnerving to Ron that Harry didn’t thrash about or cry out or writhe and moan. Harry made little noise at all. The only sound he made was sometime before dawn, a softly muttered utterance that was either Ron’s name or the word ‘run’. It had woken Ron up from one of his fitful naps that night and he was unable to get back to sleep. Ron laid in bed, pretending to sleep until he heard Harry shifting around and getting up. “Wh-wha-!” Harry exclaimed. Now he was thrashing around and Ron was up in a moment.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” Ron grabbed Harry’s glasses off the side table and helped Harry untangle himself from the sheets. 

“I’m fine. J-just didn’t know where I was for a moment.” Harry gave a shaky laugh and shoved his glasses on his face before standing and stretching. Ron’s gaze was inexplicably caught by the small strip of Harry’s exposed stomach before he cleared his throat and looked away. “Smells like your mum is already cooking breakfast.”

Ron and Harry dressed and headed downstairs. They were both surprised to find that it wasn’t Molly cooking breakfast but Kreacher. Molly watched closely from the kitchen table with a steaming cup of tea. She leapt up when Harry and Ron entered and hurried to hug them both before ushering them to the table. “I suppose I can’t really complain,” Molly said, gesturing to Kreacher. “But I _like_ cooking you breakfast. He just seemed so eager.”

“Sorry about that,” Harry said. “I can send him away.”

“Oh, no, Harry, dear.” Molly reached across the table and gently patted Harry’s hand. “I’ll find some work for him. Goodness knows it’s about time I had a break.”

“Kreacher will do whatever Mistress Weasley requires,” Kreacher said as he brought them all porridge and fruit.

Ron dub into the food with relish, reflecting guiltily that Kreacher was a slightly better cook than his mother. He didn’t miss the way Harry picked reluctantly at his food and seemed to be laboring through each bite.”

“Is Master’s porridge wrong?” Kreacher asked.

“No, it’s brilliant, really. Thank you, Kreacher.” Harry gave Kreacher a smile that looked painful. “You can, er, go make my bed if you want.”

Kreacher bowed. “Kreacher will make your Wheezy’s bed, too.”

Molly burst out laughing. “Oh, for heaven's sake!” she exclaimed. “Is that what you call Ronald, Kreacher?”

“Dobby told Kreacher that Ronald is Master’s Wheezy.”

“Oh?” Molly raised her eyebrows. “He did, did he? And why is that?”

“Because Master would miss his Wheezy most of all.” Kreacher bowed low and then scurried off upstairs.

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed, going suddenly scarlet. “The second task of the Triwizard Tournament. I’d forgotten…” Harry met Ron’s gaze for an instant but looked away quickly. “I’m sorry about him, Mrs. Weasley. I’ll have him out of your hair soon.”

“What do you mean by that?” Molly asked, frowning. “You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?”

“I… I can’t stay here too long.”

“Nonsense!” Molly pushed Harry’s porridge closer to him. “Finish this up and I’ll hear nothing about leaving. You may not have been born a Weasley but you’re just as much family as any of the redheads running about the Burrow.”

“Mum…” Ron said, exasperatedly as Harry turned red again and blinked rapidly at his porridge. 

Luckily, Ginny came in a moment later and Molly leapt up to embrace her. “G’morn’,” she said thickly, returning the hug before taking a seat beside Harry. George stumbled in a moment later, looking equally groggy and grunted his morning greetings.

Ron had cleaned his plate but wasn’t willing to leave the table until Harry was finished. He hadn’t yet eaten half of what Kreacher had served him and every bite looked to Ron like it was taking every ounce of determination Harry had. There was still a third of it left when he gave up completely. “I can’t,” he whispered to Molly.

Molly ‘tsk’d’. “Well, alright but you’ll eat again in two hours.” 

Harry nodded. “I’ve got to go back to my parent’s and work on a few things.”

“I’ll join you!” George said brightly, having revived a bit over breakfast. “You and I need to have a chat, I think.”

“I can come help,” Ron chimed in.

“No way, little brother.”

Ron was too pleased to see George acting almost like his old self to argue.

“I’m sending Kreacher in two hours with brunch, Harry,” Molly said. “Mind you, eat everything.”

Harry winced and stood. “Right.”

Molly hummed thoughtfully and watched George and Harry leave.

“Where’s dad?” Ginny asked. 

“He had to go in early again and he’ll be late tonight, I’m afraid.” Molly sighed, looking at the clock. Ron couldn’t stand to look at it. Fred’s hand had fallen off when he died and the sight of it made Ron sick to his stomach. 

Ron stood. “Ginny? D’you think we could have a chat?”

Ginny raised her eyebrows at Ron. “I suppose so.” She pushed away from the table and followed Ron out into the garden. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Harry,” Ron began.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known. We’re not going to get back together, Ron. So don’t even ask.”

“But why?”

Ginny frowned. “Haven’t you spoken with Harry about this?”

“Yeah, he just said something mental about not being good enough for you or… was it he wasn’t right for you?”

Ginny laughed. “Is that all he said?”

“Did he explain it to you?”

“He did…” Ginny frowned and toyed with the end of her hair. “I’m not going to discuss Harry’s private business with you. I’m sure he’ll explain properly some day. Just try to be patient for once, would you?”

“I just want to know it’s not some stupid reason.”

Ginny shook her head. “Harry’s reasons are very good. It’s alright, Ron. I’ve already got my eye on someone new.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” 

Ginny just laughed and went back inside.

George and Harry returned shortly before lunch. “Before you ask,” George said as Molly hugged him. “Harry ate everything with no complaints. Took bloody ages though.”

Harry was silent from the moment he got back and all through lunch. He ate with the determination of a man climbing a mountain barefoot and with seemingly as much success. It troubled Ron greatly to watch. Harry had never eaten quite as much as Ron did but he’d always seemed to at least enjoy food. Now he treated eating like a particularly unpleasant chore. Ron filched bites off of Harry’s plate when his mother and Kreacher weren’t looking.

After lunch, Ron and Harry retreated to the attic.

“D’you know,” Harry said. “It’s funny. I haven’t heard the ghoul at all. I only realized.”

Ron swallowed hard. “He was killed by the death eaters when they found out I was alive.”

Harry sat down heavily on Ron’s bed. “Oh, no…”

“He was really old, though. And I heard it was quick.” Ron cleared his throat. “Er, what’d George want?”

Harry looked down at his hands and started picking at his cuticles, shrugging. “Wanted to know my intentions toward Ginny.”

“Did you tell him what you told me?” Ron asked.

“More or less, yeah.” Harry glanced up at Ron and then quickly looked away.

“I talked to Ginny.” Ron caught the look of alarm on Harry’s face. “Glad you gave her a proper reason even if you won’t let me know. She wouldn’t tell me either, but I really didn’t expect her to.”

Harry muttered something unintelligible.

“Sorry?” Ron asked.

“I s-said…” Harry cleared his throat. “Ron,” Harry looked up. His expression was really odd. Ron couldn’t begin to guess what it was about. “I… P-promise you won’t hate me.”

Ron couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “I could never hate you! You’re my best mate.” Ron sat down next to Harry and put his arm around him but drew away when Harry flinched. “Listen, whatever’s going on, it’s fine. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.”

Harry visibly relaxed. “Thanks, Ron. It means a lot.” 

“Can I ask you something, though?” Harry nodded. “Why do you hate eating so much?”

Harry caught Ron’s gaze, startled and shrugged. “I just haven’t been really hungry.”

Ron nodded, shifting awkwardly. He wished Hermione where here, she’d know what to do, but she hadn’t turned up yet. Ron wasn’t worried, but he missed her and he was no good with this type of thing. “You know, you can, er, talk to me a-about anything, right?”

“You’ve told me.” Harry chuckled. “Don’t worry too much. I’m… I’m just still figuring some things out.”

Ron thought back on his years of knowing Harry, really wracking his brain, trying to come up with something, some connection. The not eating thing struck Ron as significant but he wasn’t sure why. And then he remembered. The bars on Harry’s windows, how much thinner Harry looked than when they’d got off the train after their first year at Hogwarts. Not hearing from him. The look on his mum’s face when she’d said “you’ll need feeding up a bit.” The look on her face more recently when she told Harry he’d be eating second helpings. His mother had realized way sooner than Ron. 

As a kid, Ron just thought the Dursleys were rotten. Now he realized they were downright abusive and he didn’t understand why he was figuring that out _now_ and it was causing a flare of completely inappropriate anger to burn in his chest. He was so angry. Out of nowhere. “Can I ask you something else, Harry?”

Harry looked up at Ron, startled. Ron guessed the tone of his voice may have betrayed what he was feeling. “Y-yeah,” Harry said.

“I was just… wondering, I know, er, you’d mentioned not really caring if your aunt and uncle were dead and, well, it was a little, er… I think I didn’t fully understand how bad they were.” Ron said. He swallowed hard.

Harry frowned, brow furrowed in confusion. “Which bit of that was a question?”

“I just wondered, er, they were really terrible, weren’t they?”

“You’re just working this out?” Harry asked, bewildered and then he sighed. “Oh wait.. right, I never really talked about them much. Yeah, Ron, they were really terrible. Miserable, awful human beings. I never told you about the cupboard, did I?”

Ron frowned. “What cupboard?” Whatever it was, Ron was already a bit horrified.

“I lived in a cupboard under the staircase until I was 11. That was my bedroom.” Harry started picking at his cuticles again. 

“That little cupboard outside the living room?” Ron vaguely recalled the door with the metal grate on it. “That tiny little thing? Blimey, no wonder you’re so small.” Ron was so angry, his tone was almost sarcastic. What was the matter with him? “Why’d they make you sleep in a cupboard? They had enough bedrooms, didn’t they?”

“Er, yeah. I think it was because they thought if they kept me really unhappy, they could, er, squash the magic out of me.” Harry shrugged.

“Squash- and they starved you, didn’t they? They didn’t feed you enough? What’d they do when you cried? Or had nightmares or you were sick?” Harry only shrugged again and that had Ron reeling. “What? They just… let you cry?”

“Ron,” Harry said, grabbing Ron’s arm and gesturing to the lamp on his bedside table. It was vibrating so hard, that it was moving across the table. “Don’t explode the lamp.”

Ron closed his eyes and thought about rivers and chocolate milkshakes and took a few deep breaths. “Alright…” Ron flopped back against the pillows. “I’m worn out. Sorry, Harry.”

“Budge up,” Harry nudged Ron until Ron scooted over and then laid down. Ron’s bed wasn’t really big enough for two people but Harry was so small and warm and Ron found he didn’t mind being smashed between Harry and the wall. Harry even smelled kinda nice.

Wait.

“I know it sounds like my whole life’s been miserable,” Harry said after a few moments of silence. “And I might’ve said something like that a bit ago but… well, even though a lot of bad things happened, I was really happy a lot of the time because at least I finally had a friend.” Harry hesitantly took Ron’s hand in his own. “S-sorry if I’m being odd again.”

Ron gave Harry’s hand a squeeze. “If we weren’t odd, we wouldn’t be us.”

Harry laughed. It was music, Ron was sure of it. In no time at all, it seemed, Harry was fast asleep, his head tipped against Ron’s shoulder. Ron gently extracted Harry’s glasses and set them on the nightstand. He couldn’t get up without jostling Harry so he summoned Harry’s blanket with a flick of his wand and draped it over them both. He needed a nap anyway, after the night he’d had and Harry was so warm and close. Ron was debating putting his arm around Harry when he fell asleep.

They were woken a few hours later when George burst in, calling “Harry! Ron! It’s time for din-” George trailed off and Ron watched him duck into the hall, howling with laughter. “Shut it!” Ron shouted, kicking the blanket away as he clambered off the end of his bed.

Harry stood, rubbing his eyes. “S’my glasses?” 

“Here,” Ron put Harry’s glasses back on his face. “Excuse me, I think George has a few too many teeth.” Ron kicked the trap door open and hopped down to glare at George. “What the bloody hell are you cackling about so hard?” 

“Oh, nothing.” George waggled his eyebrows. “You and Harry do make a striking couple.”

“Come off it,” Ron snarled. “We were only sleeping.”

“In the same bed?”

Ron just rolled his eyes and shoved past George to head down the stairs. He heard Harry hurry after him and George’s footsteps soon followed.

Harry seemed in better spirits during dinner. He chatted more, ate quickly and with apparent enjoyment and eagerly accepted second helpings of everything 

He didn’t sleep well that night though, Ron knew. Sometime around three in the morning, Ron woke up to the sound of Harry _screaming_ for his mum in his sleep. Ron had barely gotten up when his own mum hurried in and turned the light on. “Harry,” she said softly, lightly shaking him.

“No!” Harry shouted, sitting bolt upright. “Wh-where.. where’m’I?”

“It was only a dream, Harry dear,” Molly said. She wrapped her arms around Harry and held him against her chest. “You’re safe, my little plum.” Ron sat down, recognizing with a start that his mum used to call him that when he was really little. 

“Oh,” Harry said. “G’night, mum.” The sound of Harry’s snores followed shortly after. 

Ron watched Molly gently tuck Harry in and turn off the light but pretended not to notice her sniffling and wiping her eyes. “Look after him,” Molly whispered. "Keep him close."

“Of course, mum,” Ron whispered back.

= =

Ron didn’t mention Harry’s nightmare and neither did any of the rest of his family, even though Harry had been shouting loudly enough for the whole house to be woken. Harry only picked at his breakfast that morning. When Molly tried to urge Harry to eat, Ron shook his head. Surprisingly, that was enough to get Molly to relent.

“Are you going to work on your house today?” Molly asked Harry as she neatened a stack of toast. 

“Er, actually, I… wanted to go buy some new clothes.” Harry looked down at his enormously baggy t-shirt and jeans. “I just… I dunno how really.” Harry went pink in the cheeks. The word ‘cute’ flickered across the forefront of Ron’s mind and he nearly smacked himself. 

“I’ll help,” said Ginny. “I like shopping.” She stood and started clearing the table, taking Harry’s nearly full plate without glancing at it. 

“I’d offer my help but I wouldn’t be any at all,” Ron laughed. “I’ll just go clean up my room.” Ron gulped down the rest of his orange juice and headed upstairs. _Harry Potter wasn’t cute,_ he told himself. 

When Harry returned, wearing clothes that actually fit him, Ron quickly realized that, no, Harry wasn’t cute. Harry was _handsome_. “Blimey, you look incredible!” Ron dropped the book he was holding. He _had_ endeavored to clean up his room and it was far neater than before. Pigwidgeon zoomed around Harry’s head, twittering madly while Harry stared at his feet. 

“Oi!” Ron held out his hand and Pigwidgeon landed on his finger, still vibrating with excitement. Ron perched the owl on his shoulder and Pigwidgeon nuzzled into his neck. “Really, mate. You look amazing. Never seen you in muggle clothes that were meant for your frame.”

“Th-thanks,” Harry said to his shoelaces, his face going scarlet. 

It was at that moment that Ron realized what he’d said had been a little bizarre. “Er, don’t mention it.” Ron flopped down on his bed. “Did you have fun with Ginny?”

Harry gave Ron a half-exasperated look. “She made me try on about a half a dozen different shirts and decided none of them worked and then we had to go to a different store. I dunno how she managed to navigate a muggle shopping mall when she’s never been in one before.”

“Girls,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

=-=

Harry had clearly forgotten his own birthday, judging by the look of mortified surprise on his face when he and Ron came down to breakfast to find Ron’s whole family at the table surrounding a small mountain of gifts. “Oh no….” Harry muttered. “This is too much.”

The Weasley’s drowned out Harry’s protests with loud birthday greetings. “They’re not all from us,” Molly said once the din had died down. “You have lots of admirers and well-wishers.”

Harry received some pretty extravagant gifts but Ron noticed that Harry grinned at the Snitch keychain Ron had gotten him for a particularly long time and that made him feel warm all over.

Hermione, and Neville showed up after lunch with their own gifts and one from Luna who was sorry she couldn’t make it but was Crumple-horned Snorkack hunting with her father. 

“What’s up, Neville?” Ron asked, noticing that Neville had a look like he wanted to say something.

“Er, n-not much,” he replied. 

Ron wondered vaguely what could make one of the top five bravest wizards he’d ever met look so nervous. 

“Harry,” Neville said, once Harry was done chatting with Hermione. “W-would you go on a walk with me? I-I wondered if w-we could have a chat.”

“Sure,” Harry smiled at Neville and the two of them went out to the garden together.

Ron was _very_ curious about what Neville wanted with Harry but Hermione dragged him aside a moment later. “How’s Harry?” she asked after they’d caught up.

“Harry’s… Harry’s alright,” Ron said. “He’s put on a bit of weight at least. ‘Course, mum and Kreacher basically force-feed him. He still has nightmares but he seems more… together, y’know?”

Hermione sighed, looking relieved. “Good, I’m glad.”

“Do you happen to know why he’s so against carrying on with Ginny?” Ron asked.

Hermione hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I can’t say I’m terribly surprised but I only have theories.”

“Like what? Your theories are normally pretty spot on.”

Hermione shook her head. “This isn’t something we ought to speculate about, Ron. I don’t think it’s fair to Harry.” 

Ron grumbled. “Why is it that everyone seems to know something about Harry that I don’t? He’s my best mate. I thought he told me _everything_.”

“Is it possible that Harry might have some secret he’d be, well, afraid to tell you?” 

Ron wanted to immediately protest that it was impossible but then he remembered that Harry had _almost_ told him something about a month ago but never got around to actually telling him. Ron shrugged. “Maybe. I dunno what that could be. It’s not like there’s much he could do that I’d react poorly to.”

They sat and chatted for awhile before Hermione had to head back home. Her parents were still a little shaky about her leaving their side for extended periods and Ron completely understood. His own parents were the same. 

A half hour after Hermione left, Ron started to really wonder what on earth Harry and Neville could be talking about for so long. Harry returned just when Ron was about to get up to go looking for him. He sat down beside Ron where Hermione had been not long before. “I have to tell you something and I dunno if you’re going to be alright with it.”

Ron gave Harry a skeptical look. “I promise I won’t hex you no matter what you say. Does that help?”

Harry looked up into Ron’s eyes finally, meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d returned. He looked scared.

“What’s wrong?” Ron asked.

“Oh fuck…” Harry muttered, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Can’t do what? What’s so bad you’re scared to tell me? Harry, after everything we’ve been through together, you really think there’s something you’re going to say that I’ll… what? What are you afraid’s gonna happen?” Ron was so bewildered by Harry’s strange behavior. Normally, Harry just told Ron whatever was on his mind. Or at least, Ron used to think he did. After a solid minute of Harry just silently staring at the floor, Ron patted Harry on the arm. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

“I slept better in your bed,” Harry said. “I mean, that nap. I dunno why.”

“That’s not what you’ve been afraid to tell me is it?” Ron asked. “Because if it is, I might be mad about how dumb that is.”

Harry laughed. “No. I dunno why I even said that just now.”

“It was definitely a really good nap.” Ron’s throat went dry. What was wrong with him? Why did it feel like his stomach was twisting itself in knots but in a good way? That was new.

“I just… I h-haven’t been sleeping well at all. I dunno if you noticed.”

“Trust me, I did.” Ron sighed. “Listen, if you want to, you can sleep in my bed whenever you want.”

Harry stared at the floor again.

“Seriously. I can tell you want to, you have that look you get when you want something but you can’t make yourself ask.” At least Ron had gotten better at reading Harry even if most other people were still complete mysteries. 

“It’s not weird?” 

“Of course it’s weird but I don’t care if it’s the weirdest thing ever. If it’ll help you at all we can push our beds together and sleep side by side every night.” Ron really felt like he’d done nothing to help Harry. He could tell Harry was having a rough time of it and he just wanted to do something. It didn’t matter what. “I’m just going to do it because you’re never going to give me a proper answer anyway.” Ron got up and shoved Harry’s bed up against his own. 

Ron was pleasantly surprised when no one mentioned his ‘redecorating’ at all over the next two weeks even though he knew every member of the household had been in his room at least once. He was glad that people were minding their own business for a change. After the third week, though, Ron was a bit unnerved that not even George who had made such a huge fuss over them napping together had made a single remark. 

Harry still muttered in his sleep and moved around but not nearly as much as before. And he didn’t cry out or shout anymore either. Ron was glad. He didn’t even mind that some mornings, he woke up with Harry holding onto him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you mysterious visitor who gave me kudos! It really brightened my day. And thank you to all of the people who have read both chapters up to this point. It's alright if you can't think of anything to say in review, I'm just happy to know someone has read my story. If you DO have anything at all to say, even if you think it's silly or whatever, please do leave a review. I'm always happy to receive constructive criticisms as well.


	3. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it lust? Is it hormones? WAS IT SOMETHING HE ATE? Oh damn, this was bad. This was way bad. This was going to hurt.

The end of August was far too hot. There was a freakish heatwave that kept lingering on and on. Normally, the attic would be boiling, but Hermione had taught Harry a handy atmospheric charm that brought the temperature down to a comfortable cool. It was a bit of a drag to be cooped up inside but Ron had had enough sunburns this summer and he was sure he’d pass out in about a minute out in the heat. It was at dinner on the last weekend of August that three owls arrived, bearing letters for Harry, Ron and Ginny. All from Headmistress McGonagall inviting them back to Hogwarts on October 1st. The restoration was delaying start of term by only one month. 

“Well,” Arthur said, beaming. “It looks like they’ve gotten things mostly repaired already. That was far quicker than I imagined. I thought Hogwarts would be closed for the year.”

“How wonderful!” Molly exclaimed. “Oh, I am so pleased that the restoration was successful. More potatoes, Harry dear?”

“No, thanks, Mrs. Weasley. I’m full.” Harry set aside his letter.

“You’re not coming back, are you?” Ginny said softly. 

Harry looked at her. “Er, no. I… I might visit I just-”

“It’s too soon.” Ginny patted Harry’s hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ron watched this interaction from across the table. Ginny shot him a warning look and he focused on eating.

“I never did my seventh either, Harry,” George said. “NEWTs aren’t everything.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll be coming either, huh?” Ginny asked Ron. “It’ll be nice to be at Hogwarts _without_ one of my brothers for a change.”

“I’m done with school,” Ron said firmly. He stood up. “Dinner was brilliant as always, mum.” He kissed Molly on the cheek then headed upstairs. He didn’t want to deal with a potential lecture about the importance of his education. It was too soon for him to see the castle also. Ron changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed. He was half asleep when Harry came up an hour later and Ron just rolled over to make room and fell asleep completely.

Behind the broomshed was a little bit exposed but Ron wasn’t worried about being found. He wasn’t thinking about much of anything aside from Harry at the moment. He’d be hard pressed to focus on anything else when Harry had him pinned against the wall. Harry was so warm and he smelled incredible. And the way Harry kissed him. It was so passionate and frantic. Harry’s nails bit into Ron’s shoulders and his knee snuck its way between Ron’s thighs. Harry broke for air, grinning almost like he was drunk. 

Ron certainly _felt_ drunk. “Bloody hell,” he murmured. “Do you have any clue how hot you are?”

“You keep saying it.” Harry laughed and lightly brushed his fingers across Ron’s erection. Even felt through his pants, the sensation made Ron’s knees about buckle. “I must be. You’re all worked up.”

Ron had to lean against the shed for support when Harry dropped to his knees suddenly and worked his erection free. “H-Harry-!" Ron's voice came out in an oddly high pitch as Harry licked and sucked at his dick. Ron gripped at Harry's shoulders, legs rubbery. It was over too soon.

Ron woke in a daze, for a moment, he didn't realize he'd been dreaming. Harry was snuggling him again and Ron almost wrapped his own arms around Harry but then his brain caught up and Ron could only lay there in stunned silence in the dark. He hadn't really just had a wet dream about his best friend, had he?? All evidence pointed to yes. Worse yet, Harry was holding onto Ron very firmly and he was dead asleep so Ron couldn’t get out of bed without waking him. Ron didn’t know what to do. Luckily, only a few minutes later, Harry turned over and Ron was able to clamber off the end of the bed and bolt for the shower.

Ron usually didn't remember his dreams but he couldn't get this one out of his head. The shower was no help. Yes he was clean now but that damn dream kept replaying over and over in his mind. Flashes of that look on Harry’s face and the memory of how real and warm Harry had felt in his dream. Ron groaned and turned the tap around to cold. He let out a yelp as the icy spray hit his overheated skin. 

It was terrible. Ron clambered out of the shower, shivering violently and hand washed his briefs in the sink. He wasn’t sure if he felt more embarrassed or ashamed. 

By the time Ron got downstairs and sat down to eat pancakes that Kreacher had prepared, he had himself nearly convinced that the dream had been just that, a dream. It didn't mean anything. Hormones, that's all it was. Though Ron couldn’t ignore the way his throat constricted and stomach twisted when Harry sat down next to him a few minutes later. “Alright, Ron?"

Ron cleared his throat and took a sip of juice. "Brilliant." He glanced at Harry. "You sleep okay?" 

Harry smiled. It was such a lovely smile. Ron was so distracted by it that he almost didn't catch Harry’s reply. "As good as I ever do." Harry shrugged and gave Ron a questioning look. "Do you-"

"Good morning," George interrupted as he walked into the kitchen. He looked pointedly at Ron for a few moments before turning his attention to Harry. "Did you boys hear any funny noises last night? Thought I heard some kind of commotion coming from the attic."

Ron dropped his knife on his plate but Harry just frowned. "I dunno," said Harry. "I slept pretty well so I didn't notice any noise."

"Ahh..." George smirked. "Lucky." He glanced at Ron.

Ron stood. "I need some air. I'll be back." Ron left through the kitchen door out to the garden. He waited until he was out of earshot of the house before he started cursing violently to let off some of those conflicting feelings. He busied himself for awhile by tossing a few gnomes that had crept in. 

He didn't notice George until his brother gently tugged on his sleeve. "Alright, Ron," he said. "Do you know, I actually feel sort of bad for giving you a hard time on this one."

"Dunno what you mean," Ron said as he dusted dirt off his hands. "If you were making fun, you've lost your touch."

George shook his head. “No sense denying it, I heard you. Judging by how you’re acting, there was something especially upsetting about this particular _dream_.”

Ron just rolled his eyes.

“So who was this dream about?” George smirked. “As I said, couldn’t have been typical or you wouldn’t be acting so weird.”

Ron knew that George’s bedroom was directly below his own and that if he’d made noise in his sleep, of course George would have heard. “Mind your own business.”

George shrugged. “May not seem like it, but I _am_ trying to help. I’m probably not the best brother to talk to about this sort of thing since, well, I’m straight.”

Ron gave George a venomous, angry look.

“Ohh! You’ve gotten better at looking scary!” George exclaimed, throwing his arm around his little brother. “Well, since I’m a good big brother I’m going to give you some advice: move the beds back the way they were.”

“Why?” Ron demanded, ears burning.

“I imagine having him that close will make you have more _dreams_.”

Ron glanced at George for half a minute before taking off. He bolted up the stairs and locked himself in his room. For the first time in his life, he skipped lunch. He was too busy grappling with feelings that were miles above him.

Despite George’s advice, Ron was determined to leave the beds the way they were. It was the only really useful thing he’d been able to do for Harry.

Around one, Ron woke to the sound of knocking on the trap door. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep but he’d exhausted himself by thinking too hard. Ron wrenched the trap door open, expecting to see George. His heart leaped into his throat when Harry climbed up instead. “Er, hello,” said Ron.

Harry perched on the end of the bed. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“No!” Ron said. “Why d’you think that?”

“You barely said two words to me all morning. I thought m-maybe you were annoyed that I’ve been, er, hugging you at night.” Harry said all of this in a rush.

“You’re not doing that on purpose,” Ron said. “You do all sorts of stuff in your sleep.”

“Yes, well…” Harry started picking at his cuticles.

“Cut that out,” Ron grabbed Harry’s hands to stop him. “You’ve been doing that so much, you’re making your nails bleed.” Holding Harry’s hands made Ron’s chest feel buzzy, like it was full of bees. He let go, sighing. “I’m not upset with you. I don’t care if you hug me. Sleeping or not. Sorry I’ve been weird today.”

“Is it something you want to talk about?” Harry asked.

“No, I’m fine. Really.”

Harry paused, sitting up a bit straighter. He looked like he was getting ready to leap off the high-dive. “I… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Is it that thing you’re afraid to tell me for some bloody reason?” Ron asked.

“Er… n-no, this is… d-do you remember h-how I… I went into the forest at Hogwarts…” Harry trailed off, looking at Ron. “You don’t want to hear about this. You’ve gone all pale.”

“What?” Ron shook his head. “It’s alright, Harry. Of course I remember. Just thinking about it…” Ron shrugged. He couldn’t articulate the horrible sense of nauseated dread he felt when reminded of Harry being carried in Hagrid’s arms. He’d looked so small and lifeless and Ron’s face screwed up slightly before he could force his expression into something more neutral.

“You sure?” Harry touched Ron’s arm and lightly rubbed his shoulder. “I haven’t even told Hermione about it, yet.”

“It’s alright, Harry. You can tell me anything, you know that.” Ron gave Harry a bracing smile. It was quickly wiped from his face as Harry began to describe walking through the forest by himself and the moment he’d used the resurrection stone. When Harry got to the part about standing in front of Voldemort unguarded and unarmed, Ron let out a yelp. 

“I-I don’t have to tell you all this right now,” Harry said. “I don’t want you getting all upset.”

“No, go on,” Ron said. “I gotta know what happened.”

As Harry described the white train station, Ron was overcome with emotions. Fear, chief among them but he also very badly wanted to hold Harry tight against him. Ron just listened quietly until Harry got to the end of his story _then_ he pulled Harry into a hug and buried his face in his friend’s shoulder. “I’d no idea, really, just how brave you were,” Ron muttered before drawing away.

Harry was a bit pink in the face and he looked down at his hands. “I-it sounded a lot cool-”

“Stop it, Harry. You can’t go on denying how cool you are after everything you’ve done. Even if you were terrified and fumbling half the time, you still did all those cool-sounding things.” Ron shrugged. “You should be proud of everything you’ve managed to do.”

“I’d never have managed it without you and Hermione, though,” Harry pointed out.

“Yeah, but you were smart enough to keep us around, huh?” Ron laughed. “Was that all you wanted to talk about?”

Harry hesitated. “Er, yeah. I’m… going to talk to Hermione as well. It’s nothing against you. I just think, c-certain things will be, er, easier for her to help me with.”

Ron frowned, confused and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Hermione’s loads smarter than I’ll ever be.” He stood, laughing. “Forgot lunch, I’m starved.”

“There’s extra soup in the kitchen, your mum left it for you.” Harry stood as well. “Ron?”

Ron turned, smiling in a dopey sort of way. All because Harry had called out his name. “Yeah?”

Harry bit his lip and glanced away. “N-never mind…”

That night, Ron was too nervous to sleep. He lay awake a long time, listening to Harry’s breathing and feeling hot around the collar. What if he had another dream about Harry? What if he did something _drastic_ in his sleep. Ron couldn’t imagine what that would be but he knew it wouldn’t be good. It was around two in the morning when Harry mumbled something and sleep-punched Ron’s shoulder lightly, “Dumb… beautiful face...” Harry murmured.

Ron sighed and closed his eyes. He was so exhausted, he fell asleep in an instant.

Fortunately, Ron didn’t have any unsettling dreams that night. Or the next, or the one after that. He did, however, notice that Harry was behaving strangely. He disappeared early in the morning and was always vague about where he’d been. One evening, Harry got back halfway through dinner and Ron thought he looked extraordinarily happy. Way too happy, in fact. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Harry said, giving Molly a kiss on the cheek before she could stand up to hug him. She beamed at him as he sat down. Far from requiring any prompting, Harry loaded an impressive amount of everything on his plate and dug in immediately. 

Arthur and Molly exchanged one of their ‘parent looks’ that Ron didn’t understand. He thought it was strange that Harry suddenly seemed so _very_ happy when he’d seemed moody and distant the past three days. Of course, he was glad to see Harry happy, he just found it unusual. Sudden, maybe. 

“Did something good happen today?” Arthur asked. “You look like you’re walking on clouds.”

Harry dropped his fork with a clatter against his plate and had to duck under the table to retrieve it. “Er, n-not particularly.”

Ron could tell that Harry was lying. What a stupid thing to lie about. He caught Ginny and George having some nonverbal conversation out of the corner of his eye and Ron was left feeling, once again, that he was the last one in on something completely obvious to everyone.

That night, Ron dreamed again.

It was different. He was in Godric’s Hollow this time, standing in front of Harry’s parent’s graves. Harry was nowhere in sight. Ron knelt between the headstones and traced the words with his fingertips. “Er, hello,” Ron said. His breath came out in a puff although it didn’t feel cold to Ron. In fact, he was quite warm. “I thought I ought to let you both know something since, er, I’ve been friends with your son practically my whole life.” Ron was quiet, he traced a pattern in the frost that had collected on James’s headstone. “Y-you should know that, er, I-” Ron cleared his throat. “I love Harry v-very much. L-like in the way I think the two of you must have loved one another.” Ron’s ears grew hot. “I’m gonna tell him. S-soon. I just… had to tell you both first.” Ron stood. “Right then, c-could you two do me a favor and look after Fred for me? Thanks.” Ron turned around and came face-to-face with Harry. He backed up a few steps and nearly tripped over his own feet. “Harry! Blimey, you scared me.” Ron patted his chest. His heart was racing, not from fear but because of how gorgeous Harry looked, standing there with snowflakes in his eyelashes. Harry left him breathless.

“Ron…” Harry had a pained look on his face. He took Ron’s hand in his own. “How long have you been in love with me?”

Ron froze, petrified. He knew he couldn’t deny it, knew that Harry must have been standing there the whole time. “Feels like it’s been forever,” he finally managed.

Harry pulled Ron close and held him tight for a long while. “Oh, Ron… this is going to hurt.”

They were suddenly in Harry’s bedroom in Godric’s Hollow. Harry was pulling Ron over to the bed, tearing away Ron’s clothes as they went. “Harry, slow down. What’s going to hurt?”

Harry pushed Ron onto the bed and climbed after him. Had Harry’s bed really been this big? Ron’s mind felt like it was melting and it was difficult to grab onto a thought.

“What d’you mean?” Harry asked, now tugging down his own pants. Ron didn’t have a chance to reply. The sight of Harry naked rendered him speechless effectively enough. Harry was so gorgeous and then Harry was kissing him, touching him everywhere and Ron was so hard it almost hurt. 

“Harry,” Ron said between kisses. “Harry stoppit a second.” When Harry relented, Ron shoved Harry onto his side and held him close, tangling their limbs together. It wasn’t very smooth, but it felt nice. Harry was calling out Ron’s name as Ron nuzzled his face in Harry’s hair.

“Ron,” Harry said a little more firmly. “Ron, wake up, you’re squashing me.”

Ron woke in a daze, blinking. As in his dream, he was holding Harry tight but they were not naked and Ron’s brain took some time to catch up before he scrambled away from Harry. His face was scarlet, not that Harry could possibly see him in the pitch dark. But Ron was _sure_ that Harry must have felt he was aroused and he was terrified that he’d spoken in his sleep. “S-sorry!” Ron squawked. “I was dreaming. I-I mean, I was asleep and-”

“S’alright, Ron,” Harry said. Ron heard the sound of Harry climbing out of the bed. “You’ve put up with enough of that from me.”

“Where’re you going?” Ron asked. 

“I…” Harry paused for so long that Ron almost prompted him. “I’m going to go sleep in Percy’s room. It’s a bit, er, w-warm up here.” Harry was down the trapdoor before Ron could say anything. Not that he had anything useful to say. He felt stupid, mortified and to make matters worse, he was still sporting a pretty insistent erection. 

Ron pressed his pillow against his face and let out an aggrieved wail. 

= - =

While Ron was fairly relieved that Harry wasn’t at breakfast, nor apparently anywhere in the Burrow the next day (having the wet dream was one thing, being so turned on from a second one that he’d had to jerk off to go back to sleep was another matter entirely --Ron couldn’t look Harry in the eye for awhile, nope) he was still pretty curious about where Harry might have gone. In fact, Ron wanted to know where Harry _kept_ going. 

George joined Ron a few minutes after Ron had started on his stack of pancakes. “G’mornin’” Ron said around a mouthful. 

“Charming as ever,” George said. 

Ron looked over at George and swallowed. “Is there any chance I can talk to you about something and you’ll promise not to be too, er… rude about it?”

George gave Ron a questioning look. “Something pretty serious, huh?”

“W-well… y-you know you s-said you’d try to help and it’s not going to be any help if you’re making fun of me the whole time. I suppose you can laugh if you want. Not like I can expect you not to…” Ron cleared his throat.

“Hold on there, Ron.” George turned in his chair and put a hand over his heart. “I promise I won’t laugh about this. At least not to your face. I think I know what you want to talk to me about and, really, you should know better than to think I’m going to be an arse.”

“Ha! Well, alright then.” Ron took a deep breath. “Th-that dream I had-”

“It was about Harry. Yes, Ron, I figured that out straight away.” George bit back a smirk. “If I don’t help you along, you’ll take all day to tell me. So let me see if I have this right.” George took a sip of the tea Kreacher had placed in his hand a moment before. “You had a dream about your best mate and you didn’t take my advice when I said to move the beds. So you had another one. And now you want to know if that means you’re attracted to him.”

“W-well, yeah, that about sums it up pretty well,” Ron said.

George nodded. “Dreams alone aren’t much but even mum noticed the way you look at Harry. You’re smitten, over the moon, in fact.”

Ron blinked and stared down at his plate. “Oh… Shit.” Now that George said it, Ron couldn’t help but feel like it was probably pretty true. “E-even mum?”

“I heard her talking to dad last night. She said ‘did you ever notice how Ronald looks at Harry? He looks just like you did when I caught you staring at me in Transfiguration’.” George’s Molly imitation was passable at best but Ron could definitely picture his mum saying that. 

“What do I do, George?” Ron asked after a long silence.

“That’s where this gets tricky, unfortunately.” George took another sip of his tea. “Ordinarily, I’d tell you to tell Harry how you feel. Quick, before someone else gets to him-”

“You’re mental! Like Harry would go for me even if I had the guts to tell him I fancied him.” Ron’s ears burned. He’d said it out loud. There was no taking it back now. 

“Ron, I’m sorry but it doesn’t really matter anyway.” George _did_ look sorry and that made Ron nervous.

“What are you talking about?” 

George patted Ron on the arm. “You’ll see. Just don’t let Harry know how you feel. Kick him out of your bedroom and try to get over this while there’s still time.” George stood, taking his tea with him. “That’s all I can really say.” George left before Ron could ask him what he’d meant.

Ron cleaned his room again. It was a chore that irritated him so it also happened to be very good for getting his mind off of things. Once it was clean, Ron just felt angry. He was mad at himself for fancying Harry, even more angry that he’d had to have George tell him in such a stupid way for him to realize it and mad that Harry kept bloody disappearing all day and lying about where he’d been. 

Ron kicked his dresser. Why did Harry have to lie to him _now_? Harry never used to lie to Ron. At least, Ron was pretty sure. Now it seemed like Harry was lying constantly and Ron had worked himself up into a really great bad mood by the time Harry came back just after dinner. Ron was all ready to demand answers but the sight of Harry, as in his dream, took away his breath for a few seconds. “Hey, Harry, what’s up?” he said.

Harry sat heavily on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to move back to Godric’s Hollow. I-it’s all finished up.”

“Oh…” Ron sat down next to Harry. “All alone, though? With just Kreacher?”

“I’ll have visitors all the time. Luna, for one. She said she might want to move into my spare bedroom when she’s done at Hogwarts.” Harry shrugged. “I just think it’s time I left the Burrow.”

“Harry… you don’t have to leave. Really. You don’t ever have to leave. My family loves you and you’re one of us. It’s just-”

“I know that, Ron.” Harry had a pained expression on his face. “I-I’m going to tell you something and… w-well I’ve tried to say it before but now I really can’t avoid it any longer so…”

“What is it?” Ron asked. 

“I’ve been, er… leaving the Burrow a lot the last few days and I think it’s o-only fair I tell you, since you’re my best mate. I’ve been going out. O-on dates.” 

There was a faint ringing in Ron’s ears all of the sudden. It was quiet, but it was all he could hear for several moments while he stared blankly at Harry. “Huh? You’ve been afraid to tell me you’re dating someone?” Ron frowned. “That’s really dumb, Harry.”

“N-no, it’s… it’s not so much that I’m dating it’s, w-well, it’s who…” Harry stood up. He paced back and forth a few times before taking a deep breath and facing Ron. “I-I’ve been dating Neville.”

“Neville…. Neville _Longbottom_?” Ron said after a few beats of silence. The ringing was really loud now. So Harry liked blokes. And Harry was dating _Neville_. Ron’s brain was broken. He couldn’t process this all at once. “For how long?”

Harry squared his shoulders and stood up straighter, there was an almost defiant set to his jaw. Oh god, he was so handsome And he liked blokes but he was dating _Neville_. “He, er, he asked me out on my birthday,” said Harry. “But I… I told him I needed to wait a bit and then three weeks ago I asked him out for tea and w-we’ve seen each other quite frequently since.”

“Wow… I thought for sure Neville and Luna had something going on…” Ron frowned, his brain was starting to catch up but that faint ringing was still there. “Wait, so you were afraid to tell me you like blokes? Was that it?”

“That was the bit that I was afraid to tell you, yeah.” Harry nodded.

Ron laughed. “You had me all worried it was something terrible. Oh, Harry… You should’ve realized I’d never have a problem with you liking blokes.”

“How am I supposed to realize that, exactly? It’s never come up, has it?” Harry asked.

“I guess not.” Ron scratched his head. “Then you must not’ve known; not all the Weasleys are straight. It’s really not a big deal at all. To any of us.”

Harry visibly relaxed so much so he appeared to shrink a few centimetres. “Ginny should’ve told me that. I wouldn’t have been so nervous.”

“You should know, though that whatever you have to tell me, I’ll accept it, okay?” Ron stood and patted Harry’s shoulder. He was going to overlook the fact that Harry had apparently told Ginny he was gay before Ron. Harry hadn’t exactly _said_ he was gay and not bisexual but he’d have to be gay not to want to date Ginny. “There’s nothing you can say that I’ll freak out too badly over and we’ll always be friends no matter what happens.” Harry smiled. Ron felt like all the lights in the rest of the world had gone out and Harry was the only thing brilliant left. Ron forcefully realized what George had been so apologetic before about earlier. George must have known Harry’s was already dating someone. Damn his timing. “So Neville, huh? I’m surprised but he’s a top-notch choice, really good bloke.” 

Harry’s smile changed almost imperceptibly but Ron thought he looked even more handsome than before. “He is.” Harry grinned wider. “He’s sweet, he took me to a muggle movie theater on our first date because I’d never been to one and then he asked permission before he kissed me.” Harry laughed. “I dunno, he’s quite charming.” 

Ron feared that his own grin looked forced but Harry seemed preoccupied in thinking about Neville. “He’ll be good to you, I’m sure. Well…” Ron rubbed his hands together. “I really ought to be off to ask Aberforth for a job. Might be home late.”

“I’ll be all moved out by the time you get back, then.” Harry stared at the floor, posture slumped. Ron wanted to beg him not to leave. Harry looked up at Ron and Ron nearly gasped at how vulnerable Harry looked. “Could I have a hug before you go?”

Of course, Ron immediately wrapped his arms around Harry and held him firmly. It was the first time hugging someone had hurt so much. Ron felt like there was a crack in his ribcage and white-hot pain was pouring out from the center. 

He finally understood why some people called this feeling a crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always saw the Weasley family as being particularly astute in matters of the heart. I headcanon that they actually have a magic about it. Except for Ron. Because poor Ron is basically just an ordinary guy (but we love him anyway).


	4. Crush(ed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So THAT'S why they call it a crush. Ow.

The pain in Ron’s chest didn’t go away easily. It was with him as he walked across the garden to a spot he could Apparate to Hogsmeade from and by the time he reached the Hog’s Head, he felt like he was being ripped open. This didn’t make any sense at all and Ron didn’t have the energy to try and make sense of it so he decided his best course of action was to drink himself senseless. 

The reality was that Ron only felt worse, particularly when Aberforth cut him off sometime around eleven. In fact, in addition to being miserable, now he felt sick and Ron managed to toss some gold on the table and bolt from the bar before he started chucking up into a bin outside. 

He could barely hear the sound of someone approaching him from behind over the sound of his own retching but quite suddenly, he no longer felt the least bit ill. He straightened up and was face-to-face with the last person he wanted to have see him drunk and puking. 

“I performed an anti-emetic spell on you,” said the familiar drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. Ron was having a hard time keeping Malfoy in his sight. He was dizzy and there were three of Draco. 

“One’s bad’nuff,” Ron said, spitting.

“It does _nothing_ for you being piss drunk, however.” Draco smirked, shaking his head. At least that was what Ron _thought_ Malfoy was doing. Really, which one of him was the real one? And why did Ron care? Draco pressed a cold bottle of water into Ron’s hands and watched the redhead fail to open it a few times before Draco wrenched it from his hands and twisted the cap off. “Honestly, I’m amazed you’re upright after drinking seven firewhiskeys.”

“Zat all I drank? z’like more.” Ron took a swig of the water and swished it around in his mouth before spitting in a direction he didn’t see a Draco. “Why’re y’elpin’ me?”

“Because you’re disgracing yourself in front of my place of work.” Draco grabbed Ron by the elbow. “Aberforth told me he’d fire me if I didn’t make sure you got home alright. Pity.” 

Being forcefully Apparated without warning while drunk was absolutely dreadful. Ron fell flat on his face the moment Draco released him and he didn’t believe for a second it was an accident. Especially not when Draco said “oops” all sarcastically like that. 

"M'leavin',” Ron drew his wand but Draco disarmed him in a flash.

“I’m not having you splinch yourself in my living room,” Draco said. “You can have your wand once you’ve had a sober-up draught.” Draco pushed Ron’s chest hard. Fortunately, there was something soft under him. A couch maybe? Ron laid back and dozed off to the sound of Draco’s voice saying “don’t move.” 

When Ron woke up, Draco was sitting on the floor with a cauldron, throwing bits of this and that into it. If the smell coming off it was any indication, it wasn’t going to taste good at all. “What’r doin’?”

“Shut up,” Draco snapped. 

“Where’m I? Zisn’t the Burrow,” Ron whined. “Not yer house either.”

“I said _shut up,_. I need to concentrate, you brute. I’ve no time to listen to your drunken rambling.” Draco stirred the potion a few times and then prodded the flames with his wand to turn them down. Ron was momentarily mesmerized by the flickering blue flames. “It needs to stew now.” Draco remained on the floor and smirked up at Ron. “You’re a really pathetic drunk, you know. Muttering into your cups about Harry Potter. What’s he done? You look like you’ve been dumped.”

“Shuddup. Me an’ ‘im’re not a _thing,_.” Ron flapped his hand at Draco. 

“Oh, clearly _not,_ if Potter’s been galavanting around Hogsmeade with Longbottom. Looking at him with that revolting expression. You’d think he’d want to be a bit more subtle about it…” Draco trailed off, staring at Ron. 

Ron was too drunk to hide the pained look on his face. The alcohol was doing nothing whatsoever to dull the horrible ache in his chest and it rose to a fever pitch when he heard that Harry looked at Neville in a way that made Draco sick. Ron felt nearly ready to chuck up again. “Shoulda let me puke s’more.”

“I was only kidding about him dumping you,” Draco’s tone was strange. It took Ron a moment to realize he sounded apologetic. “I didn’t think you were actually in love with him.”

“Ha! Jus’a crush-” Now why the hell did he admit that to Draco? “No fair, y’took me here’n I can’t keep m’bloody shouth mut. Fuck. Mouth shut.”

Draco let out a low whistle. “A crush is it? Don’t kid yourself, Weasley, it’ll only hurt more later.”

“Why’d’you care? Y’hate me.” Ron closed his eyes and dozed off again. He was awoken what felt like seconds later when Draco plugged his nose and tipped a goblet of potion to Ron’s lips. Ron shoved him away, somehow not managing to spill the potion. 

“If you drop this, I will pour the next cup down your throat while it’s still hot.” Draco pressed the goblet into Ron’s hand and Ron used every ounce of coordination he possessed to throw back the potion as quickly as possible. 

The moment he swallowed it, Ron could feel the effects of the alcohol fading away and he grew redder and redder in the face as he realized what an ass he’d made of himself. “Damn it,” he said. He stood up. “Alright, I’m sober. Give back my wand now.”

“You’re not even going to _thank_ me? I could have dumped you off at the Burrow, drunk as a mermaid and let your mum flay you alive.” Draco returned Ron’s wand at once, however. 

“Er, yeah… I suppose I should thank you. Thanks.” Ron stared down at his feet. “What were you doing anyways? You said you work at the Hog’s Head?”

“You were so intent on drinking away your misery about Potter that you didn’t even realize I served you three of your drinks?” Draco shook his head. “Yet you deny you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not bloody in love with Harry Potter!” Ron shouted. Why didn’t he just leave? He could go any time. Instead, Ron looked around. “What is this place anyway? I know we're not at Malfoy Manor. I’ll remember the sitting room of your house until my last breath.”

Draco bristled. “Well, I’m glad you can picture it so easily as it’s been burned down with the rest of the Manor.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “What? Burned? Wh-who… What?”

Draco shrugged. “It could have been the Ministry, it could have been Fenrir Greyback or any of the other Death Eaters that escaped.”

“W-was anyone hurt?” Ron asked.

Draco sighed. “Only Sarafina, my tarantula. My parents were already locked up in Azkaban and I was attending a funeral.”

“Jeez… whose?” Ron asked, wincing as much about the thought of a funeral as the fact that Draco owned a tarantula.

Draco swallowed hard. He looked, if possible, paler than ever. “Pansy’s.”

“Parkinson?” Ron said, shocked. “But she wasn’t at the battle! McGonagall sent her off with the rest of your house.”

“She didn’t die in battle.” Draco was talking at the floor. “She went home, apparently filled with regret and remorse for what she’d shouted in the Great Hall and drank undiluted bubotuber pus.”

Ron hissed through his teeth. That was a horribly painful death. “I-I’m sorry, Malfoy. Th-that’s… I know you and her were close.”

Malfoy shrugged. 

“Are you all alone then? In this…” Ron glanced out the window and pulled a face. “In this muggle apartment?”

“Goyle won’t speak to me, Zabini’s in prison, I won’t say what he did.” Ron had seen Draco look disgusted before but this was a new level. 

“That bad, huh?” 

Malfoy laughed coldly. “Imagine the worst thing you can. That’s still probably nowhere near as despicable.”

Ron didn’t really _want_ to try to imagine something so terrible that it made a man who’d once used the Cruciatus Curse on first years, look sick to his stomach. “Glad to know you weren’t the worst person in our year, then.” 

“Not by miles,” Draco said. “I won’t pretend I was some saint, either.”

“So you feel… bad about all that stuff you did?” Ron asked.

Draco gave a short, hollow bark of a laugh. “Well, I’ll tell you, I don’t feel much remorse about the things I did while under the imperius curse-”

“Oh, come off it,” Ron said. “When were you ever imperiused?”

“Sixth year. I only remember bits and pieces. I nearly killed you, thanks to my dear Aunt Bellatrix.” Draco sneered.

“Now that, I can believe.” Ron nodded. “I never thought you were the murdering type. I mean, Harry kept telling me you were up to something and when I found out it was you who poisoned me and hexed Katie, I was still really shocked. Harry kept telling me, I just didn’t believe you’d join the Death Eaters.”

“I wouldn’t have. I didn’t have a choice. When Voldemort is sitting at your dinner table, telling you you’ve earned a Dark Mark and that he has a special mission for you, you don’t say no. Not knowing he’ll kill you and all of your family and everyone you’ve ever loved.” Draco rubbed his arms. “Now look at how low I’ve sunk. Complaining to a man who could give less than two shits about me.”

“Oh, c’mon. I give at least three shits,” Ron said, laughing. “Maybe a couple more now I know you didn’t really want to murder anyone.”

“Of course I never wanted to murder anyone! I wanted to go to Hogwarts, graduate with good marks and become a Healer. But that wasn’t good enough for my father. No, he wanted me to be a brain-washed Pureblood Supremacist and look down on people for something so stupid as who their parents are. I feel like I owe your entire family an apology. Mine has been treating yours like dirt for several generations when, really, you Weasleys were clearly made of better stuff. Blood Traitor or not, it’s not difficult to see who the good guys were. You and Granger and even Potter. I treated you all like filth and you saved my life anyway.”

“If I’m honest,” Ron said after a few moments of silence to let that crazy rant sink in. “I was all for letting you burn to death. I thought you had it coming. Now… w-well, I dunno if I can really trust everything you said, you realize? But I’m glad Harry pulled you onto his broom. And I guess I’m glad I saved Goyle even though he abandoned you.”

“Good enough for me.” Draco held out his hand. “I haven’t got anyone else and if I’m guessing correctly, you’re too good of a person to let even your worst enemy be all alone.” 

Ron paused for only a moment before grasping Draco’s hand and shaking it. “How about we just start over as acquaintances?”

Draco squeezed Ron’s hand briefly. “Deal.”

= - =

For just a little while, Draco had helped Ron get his mind off of how miserable and jealous he was. He couldn’t believe all that had happened that night. He lay in bed for a few minutes the next morning, staring at the ceiling, trying to process everything. The dull ache in his chest started up again when he thought about Harry and Neville. Ron got up at that point and stomped around his room getting dressed. He had to get this feeling _out_ somehow. His room was already clean. It was tempting to throw things around.

Instead, he went down to breakfast, realizing with a start that his mum was cooking it. Of course, Kreacher had gone to Godric’s Hollow the day before. The ache grew worse. Ron felt like he was going to cry.

“Oh, Ronnie, what happened?” Molly said, catching sight of her son and hurrying over.

“Y-you already know, don’t you?” Ron said. “E-everyone s-saw it but me, right? You all r-realized how I felt before I had a clue. S-someone should’ve told me. It’s not _fair_.” 

“Uh-oh,” Ginny said from the doorway. She was poised like a cat, ready to dash off or over to Ron’s side at a moment’s notice. “Should I go away?”

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Ron asked. “You’re my bloody sister. You knew he was gay-.”

“He told me that in confidence! He probably told _you_ in confidence as well. It’s not something you ought to shout about.” Ginny said. 

“Well, you knew I fancied him, didn’t you? I saw you and George giving each other looks,” Ron muttered. “You could have clued me in on it. You all know I’m dumb.”

“And how was I supposed to know you weren’t aware of your feelings? I’m not psychic, am I?”

“Ginny, dear,” Molly said, an edge to her voice. “Your brother needs sympathy. He’s just suffered a terrible heartache.” Molly patted Ron’s hand as she sat beside him. 

“So, you’re actually _in love_ with Harry?” Ginny asked, eyes wide. “I thought you only had an awkward crush.”

“Who says I was in love with him?” Ron demanded. “Why do people keep saying that?”

Molly sighed. “Well, this is certainly a mess, isn’t it? Does Harry know?”

“I hope not,” Ron said. “I really, really do because that would just muck everything right up. If I can help it, he’ll never, ever find out.”

“How do you plan to keep this from him, Ron?” Ginny asked a dubious expression on her face.

“I’ll figure something out.” Ron shrugged. “Harry and Neville both deserve better than me pining after Harry while they’re together. I’ll just… fake being happy for them until I can be happy for real.”

“Harry and Neville?” Molly asked. She smiled but her expression quickly wavered. “Oh… I’m sorry, Ronald. Neville really is a very good person. It would likely be easier on you if he weren’t.”

“I’m just glad Harry’s not dating some jerk.” 

Ginny laughed. “Oh, it just popped into my head. When someone says ‘some jerk’ I can’t help but think of Draco Malfoy.”

Ron groaned. "That's horrible. Don’t even joke about that."

= - =

Later that day, Ron debated heading to Godric’s Hollow to visit Harry but it occurred to him that Neville was likely already there. Ron wasn’t ready for the potential sight of Neville and Harry being smooshy together so he Apparated to the Hog’s Head to ask for a job instead. 

"Why d'you want to work here?" Aberforth asked. "I know you like my firewhiskey but can't drink it on the clock."

Ron flushed. "Er, s-sorry about that-"

"Don’t mention it, Weasley. I seen lots of people drink themselves sick. You were tame, t'be honest. Quiet-like." Aberforth leaned forward on the bar. "Lets see... I got Draco on as a waiter but I suppose I could use a good strong young fella to clean the place. So get to work and we'll see how clean you can get the bar before Draco turns up. Then we'll discuss a more permanent job."

Fortunately for Ron, Molly had nagged him senseless about learning cleaning spells. By the time Draco turned up for his shift, all dust and grime was gone from the bar's surfaces, the floor was polished and clean and the glassware was gleaming. Even the bottles were straightened and organized. "Huh..." Draco said. "Looks like a house elf’s been here."

"Ha!" Ron exclaimed. "You just gave me a compliment." Ron leaned on the bar and gave Draco a cheesy grin. 

Draco shoved Ron’s forehead back, chuckling. "You did all this?"

Ron swatted away Draco’s hand. "Yep. You’re looking at your newest coworker. Aberforth gave me a job cleaning and hauling kegs and things."

"I'm surprised he hired you after you made such a fool of yourself last night."

"Yeah well, Aberforth forgave me after he saw how clean his bar was. I reckon more people will want to drink here now." 

Ron was right about people coming into the Hog’s Head more but he was wrong about the reason. In the following month, the Hog’s Head saw more business than it had in the prior year combined. Hogwarts students were their main customers all coming in to see _the_ Ron Weasley. For the first time in his life, he was the center of attention instead of watching Harry be the center of attention. To his surprise, he hated it just as much as Harry always seemed to. Better was when he saw his old teachers. McGonagall gushed about how proud she was of him, Professor Trawlaney predicted great happiness and fortune in his immediate future. Hagrid nearly broke his ribs hugging him, like always. 

Strangely, Ron found he didn’t mind working alongside Draco much, although their sudden chumminess hadn’t gone unnoticed. Ron heard remarks here and there about their interactions but he paid them no attention. At some point, Ron started thinking of Draco as a friend. 

The day before Halloween, Ron was pleasantly surprised by Hermione turning up, that is until she started wacking him upside the head with a roll of parchment. “Ow! Gerroff!” Ron exclaimed, ducking and holding his arms over his head to fend off an attack.

“Why on earth have you been avoiding Harry for the past six weeks, hmm?” Hermione demanded. “I got this owl from him and he’s in a state about not hearing from you. His handwriting was all squiggly and he thinks you’re upset with him!”

“Wha-? I’ve just been busy. Working and all. Trying to convince George to reopen his shop.” Ron charmed the floor clean. People kept tracking in mud. 

“You don’t believe that, do you, Granger?” Draco asked. “I know I don’t. Why don’t you tell her the truth, Ronald?”

“You keep your pointy nose out of this,” Ron snapped. 

“Should I tell her?” Draco smirked.

“Tell me what, Ron?” Hermione asked.

Aberforth rose from his chair and patted Ron on the arm. “You go visit Harry Potter before this charming young witch hexes you to oblivion, Weasley.” 

Ron looked up at Aberforth, face scrunched. “Right now? It’s 11 at night!”

“OUT!” Aberforth insisted. 

Ron tossed his apron on the bar, grumbling and ignored when Draco protested that he ought to put it away properly. “I’m going…” he shoved the door open and stomped outside. Now he was in a shitty mood. 

Hermione was close on his heels. “What’s going on, Ron?” she asked. “You and Malfoy are acting like old pals.”

“Are you nuts? He was doing nothing but taunting me!” Ron said. 

Hermione stood with her hands on her hips. “There’s a difference between teasing someone and taunting them. A man with five brothers ought to realize that.”

Ron winced, not wanting to point out that he only had four brothers now. “Listen, Hermione, I dunno what’s going on with Malfoy. He’s… kinda all on his own. I’ve just been being nice to him since, well, nobody else is going to.”

Hermione looked shocked. “That’s awfully big of you, Ron.”

“Why is it you’re always surprised I do the right thing?” Ron shook his head. “Anyways…”

“Why haven’t you visited Harry?” Hermione asked softly. “Considering the last discussion you had with him and how terribly self-conscious he is about the whole thing, you not visiting him certainly _does_ seem to indicate you have some problem with it.”

Ron’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve got no problem with the bit he thinks I do. It’s the bit about Neville that’s getting to me. Hermione…” Ron looked up. “I-I dunno how I can face him now. I’m pretty sure I might s-sort of, er l-love him a bit. Maybe. Might just fancy him. I dunno but…”

“Oh… Oh, Ron…” Hermione hugged him tight and for some unfathomable reason, Ron wanted to cry. She stepped back and gave Ron an aggrieved look. “I’m so sorry, Ron. I had no idea, really. I never even entertained the notion…”

Ron laughed coldly. “Oh, that’s funny. Seems like everyone knew even before I did and you’re telling me the smartest witch I’ve ever met had no clue?”

“W-well, I _have_ always had a bit of a blind-spot where you were concerned, you know.” Hermione sighed. “Harry doesn’t know, does he?”

Ron shrugged. “Must not, if he thinks I have a problem with him, y’know…” Ron rubbed his arms, suddenly feeling cold. “I should go see him, though. Set him right about a few things.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?” Hermione asked.

Ron shook his head. “Won’t do any good. It’ll just make him feel bad.”

Hermione nodded and hugged Ron again. “Give him my love. And if Neville’s there, tell him he’s going to miss curfew again.”

Ron groaned but said nothing, just disapparated. 

He arrived in Godric’s Hollow several blocks from Harry’s house and walked slowly. The whole way, he silently coached himself to keep his expression either happy or neutral. Harry hadn’t realized how he felt yet so Ron still had a chance. Just as long as he acted normal. His resolve wavered slightly when he walked up Harry’s front garden and witnessed Neville and Harry saying good bye at the door. They hugged too long and too close and Ron flinched when Neville brushed his lips against Harry’s. Harry’s face was flushed but he looked so pleased and Ron cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt,” Ron lied. “Hermione said to tell you you’re about to miss curfew again, Neville.” It took everything Ron had in him to keep his tone even and not to sneer at Neville or point out that it wasn’t appropriate to snog in public. Even though it had just been a little brush of lips on lips, Ron was inflamed with jealousy. He wanted nothing more than to haul off and punch Neville square in the nose. 

But he knew Neville hadn’t done anything to deserve it.

“Right, thanks, Ron.” Neville smiled anxiously and patted Ron on the shoulder as he walked by. He turned and flashed Harry a brilliant smile. “I’ll see you next weekend.”

“See you,” Harry called, sounding breathless.

Ron wanted to throw up and he hadn’t even been drinking. Yet.

“Hey, Harry,” Ron said, smiling. He might have just looked faintly ill though because Harry’s brow furrowed for a moment. “You two are really cute together.” Ron glanced at the place Neville had just disapparated from.

“O-oh, er, thanks…” Harry grinned. “C’mon in.”

Ron followed Harry inside. He sat on the couch and noted that it was slightly more broken in now. It still needed work. “I gotta tell you something before you say anything because Hermione told me that you apparently still think I’ve got some weird problem with you liking blokes-“

“I’ve just wondered why you’d stay away so long,” Harry interrupted.

“Harry…” Ron sighed. “I was just busy. I’m sorry. But listen, if I had a problem with you liking blokes, I’d be a bloody hypocrite, wouldn’t I? Pretty sure I fancied Viktor Krum for a few minutes. Maybe a couple other blokes over the years as well.”

It was completely impossible for Ron to understand the look on Harry’s face. He looked startled but also maybe sick and sort of happy? “Really? Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Well, you know!” Ron pointed out. “It’s not exactly easy to say. I mean, it took you three tries to tell me.”

“Yeah, but when I told you, that would have been a great time to tell me.” Harry shook his head. “Although, I guess it wouldn’t have been that much easier knowing I’m gay.”

Hearing Harry say it plainly like that made Ron feel more at ease. “I’m bisexual, I mean, at least, I think I still fancy girls… No, yeah, I definitely still fancy girls.”

Harry laughed. “Girls are alright for some.”

Ron stood. “Aberforth gave me that job, by the way. I’ve seen a few of our teachers. McGonagall and Hagrid send their love and they both hope you’ll come for a visit. Oh, and Madam Pomfrey said to come to her next time you need anything mended.”

Harry laughed again but stopped quickly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you leaving already?”

“Yeah, I gotta help Draco clean up after closing,” Ron sighed and stretched his arms.

“Draco… Malfoy? He works there too?” Harry asked.

Ron nodded. “Couldn’t find a job anywhere else and someone burned down his house.”

“Burned… _why_?” Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. “We’re not sure who did it. Nobody was hurt but his tarantula, apparently. I thought she’d died but, nope. Just lost a leg. Draco still has her in his apartment.”

Harry raised eyebrows at this. “How do you know all that?”

Another shrug. “We work together. I dunno, Harry. He’s not so bad anymore now he’s been knocked down a peg. Both his parents are in Azkaban-“

“Even his mum?” Harry turned faintly gray at this news.

“Er, yeah, she had a tattoo on her left arm like the rest of them.”

Harry ran his hands through his hair and began pacing. “Alright, Ron, thanks for telling me.”

“You’re… welcome?” Ron said. “I’m sorry Harry.” Ron looked at his watch. “I really do have to get back.”

Harry stopped pacing and turned to Ron. “Er, right. Go on. Tell Aberforth and anyone really that I said hello.”

“Sure.” Ron left. The ache in his chest had turned into a knot. He wondered how long it would take him to drink his paycheck.


	5. Venture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...he didn't think there'd be any actual harm in sleeping with Draco."

The moment Ron approached the bar, Draco had a large firewhiskey poured for him. “This one’s on me,” he said.

“Leave the bottle,” Ron said, when Draco turned to put it back.

Draco paused for a moment and then poured another drink and sat down beside Ron. “I can’t let you drink the whole thing alone.” Draco threw back his glass and poured himself another. “Catch up.”

After drinking three shots each, Draco sealed the bottle and levitated it back to its place on the shelf. 

“Thought we weren’t allowed t’drink on our shifts?” Ron asked.

“Bar closed a half hour ago. You’ll notice I already cleaned up. I was about to leave when you showed your sorry face.” Draco propped an elbow on the bar and rested his chin on it. 

“Why’d you put the whiskey away? Bottle still had some left.” Ron rubbed his nose. When he was tipsy, Draco almost looked handsome.

Oh no, not this again. Ron swallowed hard. 

“Some day, you’ll probably be thankful that I didn’t let you drink the whole thing.” Draco picked some lint off of Ron’s sleeve.

“Maybe I wanted that lint,” Ron said. “Maybe I thought it looked nice.”

Draco laughed but his expression turned serious shortly after. “Do you feel like complaining to me about what went on when you visited Potter?”

Ron looked over at Draco with a start. “I think that’s the rudest anyone’s ever asked me if I needed to talk about something. You need a lesson in people-skills.”

“You’re probably right.” Draco drummed his fingertips on the table. “You’ll have to… damn, whiskey’s hitting me... “ Draco rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

“I’ll have to, what? Teach you to communicate with polite society?” Ron scoffed. “I’m not much better at it than you.” Ron eyed Draco’s posture. “You’re already tipsy? Jeez, forgot how skinny you were.”

“I was going to say you’ll have to just accept that’s how I talk.” Draco smirked. “I’m not likely to change.”

“Could try being nice.” Ron shoved Draco lightly.

Draco shoved Ron a little harder. “Sounds boring.”

“Wouldn’t be you, anyway.” Ron mussed up Draco’s hair and Draco swatted him. 

“I take it you’re not interested in talking about Potter, than?” Draco asked. 

“Not without more alcohol.” 

Draco summoned the bottle and poured Ron another shot. He sipped at a glass of ice water rather than joining Ron in another round.

Ron threw back his whiskey. “It was just… no good. Seeing Neville- he kissed him. I got all mad.” 

“You need to forget all about Potter. You can’t carry a secret torch for your best friend while he’s off dating some other man.” Draco shook his head and drank more of his water. “You’re going to do something dumb because of it. Or Harry’s bound to notice, or maybe Neville will first. Neville always struck me as more observant.”

Ron laughed. “You called him ‘Harry’.”

Draco shrugged. “I’ve been drinking. Don’t avoid the subject. Get Potter out of your head somehow. Go date someone or get laid. Find happiness somewhere else. Or steal Potter from Neville.”

“Why is it you call Neville by his first name now?” Ron asked. “And that last idea was mental. I’d never do that. Neville’s my friend and Harry trusts me.”

“He killed Nagini. I hated that snake. Slithered outside my bedroom door in the night, muttering in Parseltongue. I hate snakes in general thanks to her, used to quite like them...”

“Yeah, now you just like great hairy spiders,” Ron commented.

“Don’t speak of Sarafina that way. She is not a spider, she’s a tarantula. She isn’t even venomous, you’re afraid of her because of how she looks and that’s prejudice,” Draco said. “If you’ll only _hold_ her for a moment, you’ll understand. She’s soft and quite gentle.”

“You’re one to talk about prejudice and there is no way I’ll ever hold that thing.” Ron shook his head. “Probably never visit your apartment again either.”

“Pity,” Draco said. He sipped his water.

“Why’s that? You planning to invite me round for tea?” Ron asked, snorting.

“I was hoping to take you home one night. But I won’t get rid of Sarafina. You’re not worth all that.” 

The ringing Ron had heard in his ears when Harry told him he was dating Neville was back and Ron was beginning to think that it was brain cells screaming as they died from train of thought being utterly derailed. “W-what? You’re not… you’re not coming onto me? This is some sort of weird joke. Not funny.”

“I don’t joke about that sort of thing. Are you interested or not?” 

Ron stared at the bar, certain that there must be some very good reason why he _shouldn’t_ sleep with Draco Malfoy. Maybe it was the alcohol but Ron just couldn’t come up with a reason to turn him down. So he decided to stall. “Why would you wanna take me home anyway? Guy like you can probably have his choice.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Are you daft? I offered because I _have_ made a choice and if you truly believe I can have whatever man I like, you’ll accept my proposition.” Draco shifted in his seat so he’d be facing Ron. “You shouldn’t require a reason. Just be thankful and say you’ll come home with me. I can put Sarafina away if she’ll be too much of a hinderance.”

“I do need a reason, actually, because not too long ago, you hated me and now, what? You want to shag? It doesn’t make any sense.” Ron shook his head. “I-I dunno, not saying it’s not really tempting.”

“Hmm…” Draco sighed and drank more water. “Suit yourself. Just don’t forget, the offer is there.”

Ron stood. “I’m going to head off, now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Draco raised his eyebrows at Ron. “I’m not sure whether to be insulted or impressed. You’re the first person who has ever turned me down.”

Ron laughed. “C’mon, Malfoy, you didn’t _really_ think I was going to go home with you tonight, did you?”

Draco shrugged. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

That night, Ron lay awake a long time, wondering if he’d made the right choice. His last thought before drifting off was that at the very least, he didn’t think there would be any actual _harm_ in having sex with Draco. Just as long as no one got too emotional about it.

Maybe tomorrow, he’d bring the topic up again.

Ron woke in a particularly nasty mood the next day. He said nothing to anyone the whole morning and left for work two hours early to wander around Hogsmeade. He didn’t want to be around his family members when he felt like this. Mostly, Ron was just miserable and couldn’t understand why.

Of course the ache in his chest was there. Ron barely noticed it now. It was more like a minor twinge. Occasionally, it would flare up and be particularly painful but mostly, it was just a constant sore spot.

A week went by with Ron in this mood until one night Draco cornered him as he tried to leave after closing time. “What exactly is wrong with you this week?” Draco demanded. “You’ve had the same sour look on your face for the past five days solid and you haven’t spoken to me in the past three.”

Ron bit back a snappy remark and swallowed hard. “I’m in a crap mood and I can’t shake it. I’d rather not take it out on anyone.”

“I happen to know a rather good remedy for those unexplained terrible moods,” Draco said with a smirk.

“Are you talking about a potion or is that a really awful come on? I always thought you were likely more slick when hitting on people,” Ron remarked.

Draco laughed. “Well, at least I try.”

“Alright, you should put your spider away then. Wouldn’t want to traumatize her.” Ron was pleased to see the shocked look on Draco’s face.

Draco’s expression quickly changed into something a bit more stoic but there was a look in his eyes that gave Ron an involuntary shiver. “You’ll come home with me, then?”

Ron held out his hand. Draco took it and lead Ron into the oppressively dark, tight feeling of Apparition. Ron stumbled slightly when they landed in Draco’s living room but Draco steadied him. “Wait here,” Draco said before he headed down the hall. He was gone for only a few moments, presumably stowing Sarafina somewhere that Ron wouldn’t have to look at her.

When Draco returned, he had that look Ron recognized as him trying not to smile. Ron couldn’t help but grin at him. "You look happy," he said. "It’s nice."

Draco lost the battle against not smiling. He reached up and pulled Ron to him by the lapel. Their lips met and Ron briefly amused himself with the notion that the first man he ever kissed was once a sworn enemy. Thoughts fled, however when Draco’s cold fingers brushed against his neck. Ron wrapped one arm around Draco’s shoulders and kept his other hand at the dip in Draco’s lower back.

It was surprising to find that Draco was so responsive. A small amount of pressure was enough to coax Draco closer. Ron was breathless when he pulled away and Draco had turned faintly pink. That was when it hit Ron: Draco Malfoy was strikingly handsome. Ron was left feeling self conscious of his own appearance.

"Something wrong?" Draco asked. His brow was furrowed in actual concern.

"N-not really," Ron laughed nervously. "Still seems odd to me you’re so interested in shagging someone like me."

Draco bristled, looking deeply perturbed. "Someone like _you_ ," he parrotted. "What does that mean, exactly?" Draco stepped back and straightened his clothes.

“Just that..." Ron shifted awkwardly, worried he'd killed the mood. "I-I dunno... you're sort of good-looking and.... elegant. I'm plain and I hardly remember to comb my hair."

Draco looked confused. "You’re one of the most attractive people I've ever met. Where did you get the idea you're plain?"

"Huh? You really think that?"

Draco didn't answer right away. He tugged on Ron’s arm and lead him to the back of the apartment where his bedroom was. "Why do you think I'm so eager to get you naked?"

Ron shrugged and sat down on Draco’s bed. It was big and comfortable and smelled overwhelmingly of Draco. Ron swallowed around a lump in his throat.

Draco sighed and sat down beside Ron, a hand resting lightly on Ron’s thigh. “Listen carefully because it's likely the only time I will say such thing; I find you _painfully_ attractive. You're tall and strong and you’re a powerful wizard. Most importantly, you are good, kind, gentle. Don’t be self conscious or modest." Draco tugged on the hem of Ron’s sweater. “I'm amazed you never noticed me staring."

Ron was caught completely off guard by Draco’s sudden change in demeanor. He let Draco help him out of his shirt and his muscles twitched when Draco ran his cool hands along his chest and back. "O-okay."

Draco smiled and kissed Ron again. It took only moments for Draco to find a spot behind Ron’s ear that drove him up the wall when caressed. Draco’s kisses grew ever more fevered as he elicited soft noises out of Ron. Ron pulled on Draco’s shirt but Draco slapped his hands away and broke the kiss to remove his own clothes. Ron attempted to check Draco out but Draco had other plans. He straddled Ron’s lap, kissing him again and Ron moaned when he felt Draco’s erection trapped between them. "H-hold up a second-" 

Draco leaned back slightly and lazily toyed with Ron’s hair. "Do you need to stop? I won’t be upset, you know. If you change your mind or don't feel-" Ron cut Draco off by pushing him down on the bed and looming over him. Ron was delighted by Draco’s shocked expression. 

“I just needed a second to catch my breath." Ron stood and unbuttoned his pants. He felt his ears burn under a hungry look from Draco.

“That’s more like it," Draco purred. "Have you done this before?"

Ron nearly tripped over his own pants trying to kick them off. It wasn’t as awkward as he thought it was going to be, being starkers in front of Draco. He was still nervous when he sat down on the bed again. "Not... not with a bloke."

Draco nodded. “You won't mind my taking the lead, then?" Ron shook his head. A soft gasp escaped his lips when Draco started lightly stroking his cock. Ron took that moment to check Draco out. The tattoo on his left arm was more faded than before but still stood out starkly against Draco’s pale skin. Draco was slight but not terribly thin and he had a decently sized dick. At least that was one area Ron could feel superior, he noted with pride that he was bigger. "I'll have to teach you," Draco’s hand stilled and he pushed Ron down against the pillows. “You’re bigger than I anticipated." Draco smirked. "I bet it would feel incredible to have you fuck me." That proclamation was followed so soon by Draco’s hot lips enveloping the tip of his erection. Ron let out a warbling moan and gripped a handful of Draco’s hair.

"D-Draco-! Y-you're g-gonna finish me too f-fast."

Draco sat up but stroked Ron as he looked at him. "You don't think I was expecting you to last hours? I’m not a moron. You don’t have to hold back for my sake." There was no time for Ron to make a reply because Draco went back to his task. Ron briefly mused that Draco must have done this a few times because it felt amazing. It wasn't long before Ron was nearing release. He groaned and tried to push Draco away, unsure of how the other man would take Ron cumming in his mouth. But Draco only took Ron impossibly further to the point Ron could feel Draco’s throat contracting as he swallowed and that along with the pressure of Draco’s tongue against the underside of his prick finished Ron off with a yell.

Draco swallowed around Ron once more before releasing him. He was sweaty and out of breath and he ran his fingers over Ron’s collarbone as he climbed up the bed to lay beside him. 

“Can I return the favor?" Ron asked. He was trying and failing to sound bold.

Draco laughed. "There's no need, unfortunately. It’s been too long for me. I've no stamina anymore."

That took Ron a few seconds to work out. "Oh!" he said. "Nothing wrong with that. I only lasted about a minute."

"Tell that to my aching jaw." Draco rested his forehead against Ron’s shoulder.

A fluttering feeling erupted in Ron’s chest, almost masking the dull ache that he’d come to mostly ignore. “A-am I supposed to stay, then?”

Draco leaned up on his elbow and smirked sleepily. “If you want to.” Draco kissed Ron then and more than the earlier kiss, this caught him off his guard. It wasn't as fevered or passionate. If Ron didn’t know any better, he’d almost think it was sweet. 

Ron put his hands on Draco’s shoulders and gently shoved him away. “I’ll stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in this thing.
> 
> Also thanks for the reviews buds! Let me know how I'm doing, good or bad, please!


	6. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whether falling apart, falling together or falling into bed, the sensation of falling doesn't change much. The difference is the landing.

“Oi!” Ron was woken that morning by Draco prodding him hard in the side and barking at him. “Get up, it’s nearly noon.”

Ron scrambled out of bed, his progress somewhat impeded by the sheets tangled around his knees. “Wha-what? Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” He yawned and took the shirt Draco was offering him. He dressed as fast as he could.

“I tried several times, you just grunted at me and drooled all over the pillow.” Draco tossed Ron a belt.

“I didn’t.” Ron pulled the belt through the loops in his pants and as he went to fasten it, Draco took both ends in his hands and tugged Ron toward him. 

Draco stared into Ron’s eyes for a moment. Ron stared back, used to years of glaring at him from across a classroom. After a moment, however, Ron flinched and looked away. This seemed to greatly amuse Draco, who smirked and released him. “You’d better hurry, I don’t want this to come back on me somehow when your mum gets through with you.”

Ron groaned. “She’s probably going spare. Where’s my wand?” Draco put it in his hand. “Thanks.” Ron hesitated then leaned in and kissed the corner of Draco’s mouth. 

When he turned to apparate a moment later he thought he saw Draco reach up and touch his lips.

To Ron’s surprise and dismay, the explosion he’d expected didn’t come. The moment he stepped into the house, Molly hurried to him, red-eyed and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. “O-oh, Ron! My l-little plum, I w-was so worried.” She cried into his chest for several moments while Ron hushed and reassured her. This was somehow miles worse than her yelling at him.

“I’m so sorry, mum. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Ron finally extracted himself from his mother’s death-grip and stepped back. “I-I’ll send word next time. Use the floo o-or send an owl. I just went home with a friend after work and-”

“Never mind that, Ronald.” Molly flapped a hand. “You’re a grown man, your business.

Ron was taken aback by his mother’s completely rational response. “A-alright then. Where’s George?”

Molly suddenly broke into a wide grin. “He’s at the shop. Harry’s helping him get it reopened.”

“Really?” Ron whooped. That’s brilliant!” Ron gave his mum a kiss on each cheek. “I’ll go over and help. This is the best news I’ve had in weeks.”

“Go on. But perhaps you should change your socks. I imagine your older brother would have a thing or two to say about the Slytherin emblem on the left.” Molly gave Ron an exasperated but amused look. 

Ron looked down at his feet. His ears turned pink. 

If his siblings were good at figuring out things they shouldn’t know, their mother was the absolute master. Ron reflected on this as he hurried off to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. As soon as he walked in the door he realized his mistake. Harry was there. Stocking shelves. Looking absolutely stunning. Ron walked into a display and George hurried out to steady it and smack Ron upside the head. 

Harry looked around at the sound of the commotion. “Ron!” Harry said, beaming at the sight of his best friend. He hurried over and hugged him.

Ron’s breath caught in his throat. That old ache in his chest was flaring up again. It felt like he was being ripped open afresh. “H-hey, Harry.” Ron patted Harry on the back and pulled away from the hug. “Store looks great.”

“So, you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere?” George demanded. He laughed a moment later. “Mum was having an absolute fit this morning. She sent Bill out looking for you.”

Ron groaned. “I feel terrible. I was just crashing at a friend’s. I should’ve sent mum a note or something. Just didn’t think of it.”

“Get Luna to teach you to send word by Patronus,” Harry interjected. “She’s really excellent at it.”

“What friend did you say you were staying with?” George asked.

Ron ignored him. “I’ll ask her next time she comes round the Hog’s Head. She’s in there often enough. Aberforth always tells us not to charge her for drinks. Dunno why.”

Harry smiled. “I should visit Aberforth. And Hagrid. I-I’ll go over Christmas, I think.”

“Bet Neville’d be pretty happy to see you, too.” Ron smiled. It hurt but he smiled. 

Harry went pink in the cheeks and cast a furtive look at George.

“Oh, c’mon, Harry,” George said, putting an arm around him. “If you think I didn’t know you were gay from your third year on, you’re dreaming. Besides, I spotted you and Neville in Hogsmeade while I was there looking at Zonko’s again. If it’s meant to be a secret, you’re doing a poor job of keeping it.”

Harry rubbed his face briskly. “I… I can’t help holding his hand s-sometimes,” he muttered, mortified.

Ron was glad Harry wasn’t looking at him because he was sure his face was faintly green. He cleared his throat. “Alright, George, I’m here to help so go ahead and start ordering me around so we can get this place open.”

With the combined efforts of Ron, Harry and George, Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes was slated to be reopened the very next morning. Ron had to hurry off as soon as they finished cleaning all the windows. He arrived for work only a few minutes late. Aberforth was sleeping in his chair and didn’t notice anyway.

= - =

There were many nights spent with Ron in Draco’s bed over the next month and they’d progressed hardly much further than the first time. Although Ron had been able to try his hand at giving a blow job a few times and he was surprised by how much he enjoyed it. Mostly, he enjoyed getting Draco to make noise. Draco was ordinarily quiet but occasionally, Ron got the smallest hint of a moan out of him. He was determined to hear louder sounds. 

The night of the solstice was the first time Ron approached Draco for sex. It was just a whisper of “Put Sarafina away,” as he walked by, charming the sticky counters clean. 

After closing, Draco was waiting for Ron outside. Ron watched the way Draco’s breath condensed in the air, curling out of his nose.

“Took you long enough.” Draco grabbed Ron by the elbow. “It’s bloody freezing out.” Draco apparated them straight to his bedroom. “Just don’t go in the kitchen.” Draco was already unbuttoning his shirt.

“Bit keen, aren’t you?” Ron asked, amused. 

Draco paused with his shirt open but still over his shoulders. It took him a moment too long to smirk. Ron wondered if that meant he was embarrassed. “Did you need to have a _chat_ first?”

“Yeah, I do.” Ron took a step forward, he was really glad he was so much taller than Draco. When he stood this close, Draco had to look up at him and he found that strangely endearing. “I, er, recall something you said before a-about me fucking you.”

Draco grinned. Ron felt like warm syrup was being poured into his chest cavity. A real smile from Draco was rare and he was so, _so_ handsome when he smiled like that. “That’s something I’d like, I’m sure. Although I’m sure I’d like the other way around as well.”

“I just wondered if you’d sort of guide me through it? You’re still the only bloke I’ve ever done anything with, you know.” Ron coughed. “I mean, I’ve got a decent idea of what I’m supposed to do.”

Draco’s smile seemed to quiver slightly and he pulled Ron down by the shoulders into a kiss. “Don’t worry.” Draco pulled Ron over to the bed by his belt which he’d begun to unfasten. “I wouldn’t let you fumble around clueless.” The belt dropped to the ground and Draco leaned in, kissing Ron as he pushed up his shirt and slid his fingertips across his stomach.

Ron pushed Draco down onto the bed. Draco leaned up on his elbows, watching closely while Ron undressed. Draco unbuttoned his pants and lifted his hips to push them down. They along with his boxers were kicked away moments later and Ron was treated to the sight of Draco Malfoy fingering himself with magically conjured lube. Ron was frozen, transfixed. 

“Now you try,” Draco said after several minutes of Ron dumbfoundedly watching. He laid down and shoved a pillow under his lower back.

Ron knelt beside Draco and hesitantly ran his fingers along the crack of Draco’s ass. He tickled Draco’s balls with his thumb as he inserted a finger. Ron’s mouth went dry. He cleared his throat and probed around inside Draco, following the very obvious cues from Draco’s facial expressions. Ron was tall enough to lean in and kiss Draco when he inserted another finger, swallowing Draco’s soft gasp. 

“Y-you m-must’ve done th-this before,” Draco stammered when Ron pulled away, still fingering him. Draco clutched at Ron’s shoulders.

“Er, not… not to someone else, no,” Ron’s ears went pink. It was almost embarrassing to watch Draco’s reaction to his touch. He curved his fingers upward and Draco let out a soft whimper.

“Fuck me,” Draco spat. “Now.”

“No way, even I know that’s not enou-” Draco cut Ron off by reaching up and grabbing him by the short-hairs.

“It’s enough.” 

Rather than being intimidated into doing what Draco demanded, Ron inserted another finger and Draco released his hair, letting out the loudest groan yet. “Since when have I let you order me around?”

“Damn you-!” Draco was easy enough to shut up, all it took was a curling of his fingers and Draco was putty. Ron found he enjoyed it a great deal. After only a few more moments of this, however, he withdrew his fingers and Draco whined a bit.

Ron braced a hand on the bed, looming over Draco at eye-level. He wanted to see the look on Draco’s face as he slid his cock inside him. Unfortunately, Ron didn’t see Draco’s reaction at all because he was too distracted by the tight heat of the man under him. 

“M- _move_!” Draco hissed. 

“Can’t yet,” Ron muttered.

“Not more concern about hurting me….” Draco slapped Ron smartly on the ass. 

“Th-that’s not why.” Ron took a few deep breaths. He was on the verge of cumming _already_ and Draco smacking his butt hadn’t helped much. He bit down hard on his lip, however when Draco looked ready to smack him again and moved the barest bit of an inch in and out. Draco shuddered and twitched, seeming to suck him back in. Ron took some more deep breaths, bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and started rocking in and out of Draco. He wrapped a hand around his friend’s cock and did his best to stroke in time with his thrusts. 

It was not long before Draco climaxed with the loudest moan Ron had ever gotten from him. His back arched off the bed and release spilled into Ron’s hand. Ron was so delighted not to have finished first that he forgot to pull out and when he lay beside Draco, spent, he braced himself to be yelled at. 

“That was… fast,” Draco said, laughing. There was something funny about his voice.

Ron leaned up shakily to look at him. “Yeah, well…”

Draco smiled up at Ron and reached up to pull the redhead down on top of him. “You didn’t need my help after all,” Draco whispered. 

“I-I didn’t mean to finish off i-inside you,” Ron muttered back, feeling foolish.

“I don’t care about that, Ron…” Draco yawned. “...ald.” he added a moment late.

Ron laughed, he finally figured out the funny thing about Draco’s voice. “You’re really happy, huh?”

“Of course I am,” Draco said.

Ron shifted off of Draco but Draco held on. He was clinging a bit tight, in fact. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Draco said. “You've never cum so hard you have to hold onto something?”

Ron shrugged and wrapped his arms around Draco. He felt the other man relax into him. Ron felt a sudden slight sense of dread and he wasn’t sure why.

= - =

Seeing Draco so genuinely happy was unnerving but nice. Ron caught himself staring at Draco from across the bar at work many times the next two days. He was clearly happier than he'd been in years. The night before Christmas Eve was unusually quiet. The bar was clean and empty and had been for over an hour. It was nearing 11 pm and Ron was dozing off at the bar when Aberforth made an unusual visit to the front. “You boys may as well leave. No sense stickin’ around to serve alcohol to nobody…” Aberforth trailed off at the sound of the bell tinkling. 

“Begging your pardon, sirs,” Kreacher said, hobbling over. “Kreacher requires the Wheezy.”

“Good lord,” Draco exclaimed. “Is that a house elf? It looks like a pile of old laundry.”

Ron elbowed Draco in the side. “Show some respect.” Ron stepped forward. “What’s going on?”

Kreacher grabbed Ron’s wrist. “Master Harry needs his Wheezy.” Ron had no time to protest as he was suddenly Apparating. When the arrived in Harry’s living room, Ron rubbed his eyes. They felt almost like they’d been reluctant to come along with the rest of him. “Er, maybe warn me next time, if you remember?” Ron said. “Where’s Harry?”

Kreacher still had hold of Ron’s wrist and he lead Ron upstairs to Harry’s bedroom. What he saw broke his heart. Harry was sitting all curled up on himself against the headboard. His clothing was disheveled and his hair had reached a level of messy Ron had never seen. He looked like he’d been crying. A lot. “Harry?” Ron said, hearing Kreacher gently shutting the door as he left the room. “What’s wrong?” Ron sat down beside Harry and Harry leaned against his shoulder. The ache was back. Ron put an arm around him.

“N-Nev-Neville-” Harry couldn’t finish because he burst into fresh tears.

Not that Ron was a genius or anything but even he could put this together. “Oh, Harry… I’m sorry.” This was awful. Ron felt a surge of anger and violent impulse toward Neville. He didn’t care how this had happened or whose fault it was. Harry’s heart was broken and Neville was the cause. 

Once Harry had calmed down again, wiped his face on a bright blue handkerchief he’d conjured and taken a sip of the water Kreacher had left, he could finally talk. “I-I did something really, er… bad.”

“What?” Ron asked, brow furrowed. Harry doing something really bad? Ron couldn’t picture it.

“Neville and me were, er, doing things a-and…” Harry turned bright pink and stared down at his knees. “Isaidanamethatwasn’tNeville.” It took a moment for Ron to process what Harry had said. It was so fast. 

Once he’d figured it out, Ron could only stare at Harry in wonderment. That really was a _colossal_ screw-up. “I take it he was pretty annoyed, huh?”

“Broke up with me.” Harry sniffled.

“What? Just… right before Kreacher came and got me or…?” Ron asked. “Seemed like he was so in love with you. Didn’t he even want to talk it over?”

Harry shrugged. “W-we discussed it a bit. Mostly he was just, er, c-crying. Oh, no, Ron this is really bad!” Harry clutched his hair. “I’m such a moron. Neville’s a wonderful man and I shattered his heart to pieces!”

“Maybe once he’s had time to calm down a bit, you’ll talk it over. I mean, it’s not like there’s another man. You wouldn’t step out on someone.” Ron patted Harry on the back.

“I’ve been with Neville for months and months. Why is it that his name slipped my mind for even an instant?” Harry asked. “I just can’t believe… I’ve never even touched another man before him.”

Hearing that out of Harry reminded Ron suddenly of Draco. He felt extremely guilty but wasn't sure why. “I dunno, Harry. It was just a stupid mistake, right? Do you fancy whoever it was?”

“Whoever what?” Harry asked, squinting in confusion. His eyes were so red. Ron wanted to punch Neville in the throat.

“The name you said.” Ron reminded Harry. 

“Ohh…” Harry went pink and started picking at his cuticles. 

“More than Neville?” Ron asked.

“I don’t want to talk about this, Ron. I… I just want to sleep.” Harry pulled up the covers and slid under them. Ron went to stand but Harry reached for him. So, instead, he kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed next to Harry. He held Harry against him the whole night but he didn’t sleep. He felt like he was betraying Draco, even though Draco had never said anything about exclusivity and all he was really doing was comforting his best mate the only way he was ever any good at. Apart from that, he felt like he was being ripped open again but Harry’s pain had to be more severe. Harry needed him. That’s what Kreacher had said, anyway and Ron had already dedicated himself to being there for Harry when he needed him. 

In the moonlight, Harry was even more lovely. In a way, Ron was glad of the excuse to just look at Harry and watch him sleep. He saw little in the way of signs that Harry was having bad dreams. A few twitches here and there and the occasional concerned expression. Mostly, Harry slept soundly and still, pressed up against Ron. 

He was so warm.

= - =

It took a lot of convincing the next morning to get Harry to come back to the Burrow with Ron. He kept going on about inconveniencing people and being in the way. “Let’s see how inconvenienced mum looks when you turn up,” Ron said as he reached for the kitchen doorknob. Once they were inside, it sounded like an explosion went off. Cheers of “Harry!” sounded from all sides while the entire Weasley family (including Fleur) descended upon Harry and showered him with kisses and hugs and pats on the back. 

Harry was red-faced and stammering by the time Ron’s family was done fawning over him. He took a seat at the kitchen table and everyone else followed his lead.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Molly said. “It’s just like old times. The house is full.” She sighed and leaned into Arthur, giving him the soppy, affectionate look reserved only for her husband. Ron noted the expression on his dad’s face and remembered that George said that was the way he looked at Harry. If that was true, Harry must have noticed. There was no misinterpreting that look. 

Ron scowled down at his plate for a moment, head ducked to avoid having anyone see his expression. Just because Neville and Harry were broken up, that didn’t mean Ron could let up on trying to conceal and repress his feelings for Harry. Ron was startled out of his musings by the feeling of Harry’s small, warm hand lightly touching his elbow. He flinched involuntarily and Harry drew away as if burned. “Sorry,” Ron muttered. “You startled me.”

“You look upset,” Harry whispered. The rest of the Weasleys were too busy chatting happily and catching up to notice that Ron and Harry were chatting.

“I’m alright,” Ron whispered back. “We can talk later.”

“Do you have to work tonight?” Molly asked Ron as she passed around a vat of soup. 

“Er, no, I’m off the next three days,” Ron said. “The Hog’s Head’s been really slow lately. People go to Rosemerta’s more often in Christmas season.” Ron shrugged and started shovelling soup into his mouth.

“How wonderful!” Molly beamed. “Harry, dear, are you staying for the holiday?”

“I-if that’s alright-”

“Don’t be silly!” Molly said over a roar of outrage from the Weasleys in general. “Of _course_ you’re welcome to spend Christmas.”

“We can’t be expected to celebrate properly without you, Harry,” Percy said.

“Right,” Bill agreed while Charlie nodded beside him.

“We’re already missing enough people,” George said, softly. 

Ginny gave George a sympathetic look and patted his hand before turning her attention to Harry. “You seem a bit confused about whether or not you belong here. Everyone else agrees that you do. So why are you so reluctant to accept it?”

Harry was squirming and shrinking down in his seat, as though he could make himself disappear. Ron sighed. “C’mon, Harry. What else did you expect?”

Harry shook his head. “I-I dunno why… even all these years later, I keep expecting, er, s-something different.”

Arthur made a distasteful sound and pushed his soup away. “You can’t mean you expect us to one day decide you’re no longer part of the family, do you? Once you’re one of us, you stay one of us for life.” There was a hearty round of cheers from around the table. Now Ron felt like he wanted to shrink and disappear.

“Do not worry, ‘Arry,” Fleur said, beaming. “You take all ze time zat you need to feel at ‘ome.” She reached across the table and patted Harry’s hand. 

It struck Ron then that he should have realized Harry was gay based on how very little he was affected by Fleur’s charms. He suspected that was why she took to him so quickly (that and he’d rescued Fleur’s sister). Fleur was used to men fawning over her and breaking their bodies to impress her while Harry just treated her like any other person.

“Thanks,” Harry muttered to Fleur. There was the sound of a young child crying and Fleur suddenly leaped up.

“Non,” she said to Bill, who had risen to his feet. “‘E needs a woman’s care.” She swept from the room and returned moments later with a toddler with bright turquoise hair. 

“Teddy!” Harry blurted. “Oh… I w-was supposed to take care of him-”

“Well…” Bill said, looking awkward. “Fleur and I thought that you might be a bit, er, young for that. I hope you’re not upset with us. We will, of course, turn Teddy over to your care whenever you feel ready to take him.”

Harry stared down at his untouched lunch and shrugged. “He’d probably do better with the pair of you as parents.”

Ginny smacked Harry upside the head. “Shut up. You’d be a wonderful father, Harry.”

“Not now, I wouldn’t,” he protested a bit too loudly. Harry sighed. “Excuse me, I’m not very hungry.” Harry got up and hurried up the stairs. Ron hesitated for a few moments before following after him.

By the time Ron caught up, Harry was already curled up on his bed under a blanket. Ron sighed and pulled back the covers to lay beside him. “What’s wrong, Harry?” he asked.

Harry just whined and pulled the blanket over his head. 

“Harry?”

Harry pulled the blanket down and turned on his side to look at Ron. “I just… kept thinking someone was going to bring up N…” Harry swallowed. “Looking at Teddy…. I forgot about him. Some godfather I am, huh?”

“Cut yourself some slack, Harry,” Ron said. “You’ve had a lot on your mind.”

Harry laughed coldly. “You’ve no idea.”

“That’s only because you won’t talk to me about it.” Ron sat up and crossed his arms over his chest. “I dunno what’s going on with you lately. First, you were being all weird, keeping secrets about fancying blokes even though we’ve been friends for so long, you ought to have realized I’d never have a problem with that. After finding out your best mate is The Chosen One, finding out he’s gay is small beans. Now it feels like you’re just… keeping all sorts from me and I don’t like it.”

“What about you?” Harry demanded, sitting up. “Were you ever going to tell me you’re shagging Draco Malfoy or what?”

There was that weird ringing in his ears again. And it felt like an icicle was sticking in the center of that knot in his chest. “Wh-what?” Ron asked. “Wh-where’d you get that idea?”

“Seamus. He said he walked in on you two in the bathroom together at the Hog’s Head once only the pair of you were too tangled up in one another to notice him.” Harry said.

Ron’s ears went scarlet and he stood up. “I never should’ve let him talk me into fooling around at work.”

“So you admit it, then?” Harry stood now, too, throwing the covers aside. “You admit you’re sleeping with a man who tried to poison you to death.”

“He wasn’t trying to kill _me_ and anyway, he said he was Imperiused.”

Harry scoffed. “Okay, right.”

“You don’t understand, Harry. He’s changed. Besides, what would you’ve done in his shoes? Say no to Voldemort?” It was really weird to see Harry flinch when Ron said the name. 

“Set that aside, he used Cruciatus on first years.” Harry shook his head. “I don’t like it, Ron.”

“Well it’s a good damn thing that you’re not sleeping with him, huh? And I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.” Ron was so irritated and embarrassed, he did the only thing he could think to do. He left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut! Please leave reviews.


	7. Monstrous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas with the Weasleys. An unexpected gift

“So…?” Draco said after several minutes of staring at Ron expectantly. “What exactly happened? Why did Potter send a house elf for you?”

“I think Kreacher came on his own, honestly…” Ron, who had been pacing Draco’s sitting room for the last 10 minutes finally came to a halt and sprawled out on the couch beside Draco. “You gotta keep this to yourself, okay?”

Draco sipped his tea, smirking. “Who could I tell?”

Ron glanced at Draco and sighed before rolling his eyes, head tipped back, he stared at the ceiling. “Neville dumped him.”

“Really?” Draco looked around at Ron. “Why?”

“Dunno if I should tell you.” Ron glanced at Draco again. This time, he held Draco’s gaze for a few moments before looking away. “It was mainly Harry’s fault, though, apparently.”

“No surprise there…” Draco shook his head. “So, are you going to go for it now that Potter’s single?”

Ron grumbled. “C’mon, Harry’s smart enough to have figured out he could have me if he wanted me. Everybody else knows.”

“You have a rather inflated opinion of Potter’s observational skills. Most people are blind to other people’s affections. You were shocked to learn I was attracted to you, right?” Draco smirked again. “My first thought was to wonder how you could _possibly_ have missed me leering at you.”

“That’s because it always looked like a glare.” Ron laughed. “I dunno what I’m going to do about Harry. I just…. I’m really scared I’m going to screw up our friendship. Besides, where would that leave you? Don’t you want to keep going on with what we’ve got?”

“What is this, exactly?” Draco asked. “We’ve never discussed much beyond sex.”

Ron sat up a little straighter. “I dunno. Did you want to be my boyfriend or something? I gotta tell you, I don’t think we’d date well.”

Draco laughed for a long time at that. So long, in fact, that Ron was a bit offended. “You amuse me, Ronald. No, I fully agree, we would not ‘date’ well and I have no desire to date you. Particularly not when you’re in love with someone else. That was Neville’s mistake. He’s smart enough, he should have known better.”

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked, confused. “You think Harry’s in love with someone other than Neville?”

“I suspected as much for a long while now. You saying their break up was Harry’s fault pretty much nailed it for me.” Draco took another sip of his tea.

“You called him ‘Harry’ again,” Ron pointed out. “Sometimes, I think you secretly like him.”

“I suppose I can’t say I despise him any longer, no. We’ll never be friends, however. Knowing him, he’d never forgive me even if I wanted him to.” Draco shrugged.

“Who do you think he’s in love with?” Ron asked. 

Draco shook his head. “He’s _your_ best mate. Shouldn’t be too difficult to figure out. In fact, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be around in case he needs to sob into your chest over his broken heart?”

“Er, he got a bit… shirty with me right before I came. I suppose Seamus saw the two of us fooling around at work and told Harry about it. He wasn’t pleased.” Ron flopped back again and closed his eyes. “I’m fucking exhausted. I couldn’t sleep last night ‘cause I was so worried about Harry. Then he acts like a dick this morning over something that’s not really any of his business.”

“If it were me, I probably would have hexed you. Especially since you hadn’t already told him what was going on.”

Ron looked at Draco, startled. “What? You thought I would’ve told him?”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t care if you tell the whole damn planet. Not that I’ve been going around bragging about it. I’m just surprised you never told your best mate, even if it _is_ me you’re shagging. I don’t have any friends apart from you but what I recall from having them is that, typically, you tell your best mate everything.”

Ron pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I’m too worn out for this.”

“I’d offer to let you kip in my bed but you should probably go back and talk to Potter.” Draco sighed. “He may be annoyed with you now but I imagine he’ll be even more upset if you stay gone for very long. After all, who else does he have to cling to?”

“This suuuuucks,” Ron moaned. He stood, however. “You’re right of course.” 

Draco stood as well and wrapped his arms around Ron’s neck to pull him down into a kiss. “Come back Christmas night. I’ve got a present for you.” Draco kissed the end of Ron’s nose. It felt like it was burning when Ron moved away.

= - =

As it turned out, Ginny was angrier with Ron than Harry was. The moment he walked in the living room, Harry leaped up off the couch and all but tackled Ron in a hug. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was stupid of me. I shouldn’t have been such a jerk. It’s not my business, you’re right and you’re my best mate so I just have to accept it.” Harry pulled away. “I’m glad you’re back.”

For a moment, Ron _almost_ thought he saw a sappy, affectionate look on Harry’s face but he wrote it off as relief. “Of course I came back. I just needed to clear my head. I’m the one who should be sorry. Hell, even Draco said it was a mistake not telling you.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting it now?” George said from the doorway.

“Draco?!” Ginny demanded, cutting across George. “THAT’S who you’ve been screwing around with? That huge, monster of a prat?”

“Come on now,” Molly said as she pushed past George with a basket of laundry. “Your father and I have agreed that Ronald has good enough judgement and if he wants to fool around with a former Death Eater, we can only conclude that Draco must have changed.”

“It’s true, though,” Ron said, paling under the mutinous expressions on his brother and sister’s faces. “Draco hates his dad. Said he never wanted to be a Death Eater. Voldemort was living in his house! What would you have done?” he demanded. “What if it’d been us living with Voldemort and he ordered one of you to murder Dumbledore or he’d kill the whole family?”

George and Ginny exchanged glances. “Dumbledore would’ve died a good deal sooner,” George said at last.

“George!” Molly said, scandalized.

“Everyone’s always kissing Dumbledore’s ass but did you ever think about all the terrible crap he did?” George demanded. “For one, he left Harry with a bunch of muggles who starved and beat him and locked him in a cupboard and never bought him his own bloody clothes! Not even underpants-”

“George, please!” Harry said, face ruddy. 

“Not only that but he let Harry, Ron and Hermione get in all sorts of danger,” Ginny added. “When they were just little kids. He was supposed to be the greatest wizard of an age and somehow, I still got kidnapped by a monstrous snake and who saves me? Not the greatest wizard of an age! Twelve year old Harry Potter.”

“Lets not forget he didn’t do squat to help Draco Malfoy out when he knew damn well what Voldemort had ordered him to do,” Ron said.

“I think that this is quite enough,” Molly said sternly. An unnatural quiet fell among them all. “It’s Christmas Eve and we’ll have no more of this foolishness. I want to hear happy, cheerful voices, alright?” Molly looked over at Ron. “Oh and, Ronald, dear, do invite Draco around for Christmas dinner. I imagine he’s quite lonely, having no one to spend Christmas with.”

Ron cursed under his breath as his mom left the room. “If you don’t,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll send Kreacher after him.”

“Let her,” Harry said. “That’d be amusing. Kreacher’ll just grab him and Apparate without telling him where he’s bound for.”

Ginny laughed cruelly. “I hope he’s brushed up on duelling. I don’t care if he _is_ a guest. I owe him a few good hexes.”

“Well,” Ron said, huffily. “That’ll change his mind about us Weasleys being good people, for sure. You show him, Ginny.” He stomped off up the stairs. Five minutes later, he came stomping back with a scroll of parchment clutched in one hand and Pigwidgeon twittering madly around his head. Harry helped to subdue the over-excited owl so Ron could tie the scroll around his leg. Ron then tossed Pigwidgeon out the kitchen window and went back upstairs. 

Ron collapsed on his bed and was instantly asleep. He woke midafternoon, groggy and disoriented. It took several minutes for the fog to clear from his brain and he headed downstairs again where he was immediately cornered by Ginny. "Mum and dad might be willing to look the other way while you mess around with the biggest prat in the U.K. but I am not," she said. "I think you're being taken in."

"Yes, thank you, Ginny," Ron said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Good to know how little you trust me. Where’s Harry?"

Ginny sighed. "He left an hour ago to meet Neville."

Ron gnawed on the inside of his lip. "Neville better not make him cry again or I might do something drastic."

Ginny's expression softened into one of deepest pity. "The whole thing is a mess, Ron. Leave it be. Don’t take sides."

"How am I supposed to not take sides?! Neville made Harry CRY. Do you know how many times I've seen Harry cry? Twice. The whole time I've known him. I'm not likely to forgive someone who hurts him like that." Ron didn’t mention that the other times he’d seen Harry cry hadn’t been even close to as heart-wrenching as this. Ron choked back the angry diatribe he was prepared to go on about Neville and took a few deep breaths. “I dunno what to do, Ginny.” Ron appeared to shrink a few inches as he slouched and clutched his hair. “No matter what happens between those two, I’m going to be miserable about it.” 

“Oh, Ron…” Ginny hugged Ron firmly. “You poor, silly sap. Talk to Harry.” She drew away and looked up at Ron with an almost Molly-ish expression. “You should tell him how you feel.”

“I can’t do that, Ginny. Really.” Ron sighed and ran his fingers through his hair a few times. He felt like something was burning behind the bridge of his nose and he was so full of anger and jealousy and guilt over being even slightly hopeful that Harry and Neville weren’t about to get back together. “I just… Harry’s too… too important. I don’t want to stress him out o-or wreck our friendship.”

“Don’t be daft, Ronald. You ought to have realized that it would take a force of nature to keep you and Harry apart and even then, it’d be a struggle.” She shook her head. “Neither of you seem to realize it. It’s really odd.”

For reasons that Ron wasn’t able to fathom, Ginny’s words were like an icicle through his chest.

Ron was a bundle of raw nerves, silent and tense. Ginny kept casting him sympathetic looks all through the evening. When Harry turned up halfway through dinner, Ron all but leaped out of his seat. He could tell immediately that things hadn’t gone well. Harry said nothing to anyone, even though the entire family had gone silent when Harry had entered. Bill and Charlie quickly picked the conversation back up and everyone else went along. Harry took his usual seat beside Ron at the table and his plate was quickly filled by many helping hands. 

“Ronald,” Molly said. “Did you let Draco know he’s invited to dinner tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I sent him an owl. Haven’t heard back yet.” Ron shrugged and started shovelling food into his mouth. He saw Harry vanish some peas out of the corner of his eye with a subtle movement of his wand under the table.

Harry cleared his throat. “I-I’m sorry, Mrs. Weasley,” he looked up. “M-may I be excused?”

“Aren’t you hungry, dear?” Molly asked. “You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“I-” Harry leapt to his feet with a hand clamped over his mouth and dashed off. Ron lost no time in following him. He stood awkwardly at the door to the bathroom for several moments, fresh rage boiling up inside of him as he heard the unmistakable sounds of Harry vomiting. Ron was about to knock on the door when Molly brushed past him and went in without knocking. Ron peered around the door and saw Molly rubbing Harry’s back and making soothing noises until he was finished.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. He sat up straighter and his shoulders looked tense. “I-I’m not feeling very well.” 

Molly grabbed a cup out of the cabinet above the sink and filled it with water for Harry to rinse out his mouth. “It’s alright. You can’t help it. Are you ill or are you upset?” Harry blinked rapidly and Molly pulled him into a hug. “It’s going to be alright, Harry. These things always hurt for a bit, but you’ll get through it. We’re all here for you.”

“Th-thanks, mu-, er, Mrs. Weasley.” Harry cleared his throat and pulled away. “I think I’ll g-go lie down.” Harry stood. He shuddered when he met Ron’s gaze. It was eerie. Ron didn’t know how to feel about it. A moment later, though, Harry gently touched his wrist as he walked past and Ron followed him up the stairs, drawn by a simple brush of fingertips. 

Harry seemed to crumple when he sat down on Ron’s bed. Pain was evident on his face. Ron sat down and put his arm around Harry. “Do you want to talk about it?” Ron asked. All he had to do was master the impulse to track Neville down and hex him into about a million little bits. Should be easy enough, right?

“No,” Harry said. “It’s really-... Yeah, I do, actually.” Harry cleared his throat. “He told me-” Harry’s breath hitched. “I said I was sorry.” Harry swallowed and took a deep breath. “H-he said he understands a-and he forgives me and then, w-well, he…” Harry closed his eyes, face screwed up in pain. “He told me he loves me.”

“I’m confused,” Ron said. “That’s… that all sounded like good stuff. Why are you so upset?”

“I don’t love him.” A few tears leaked out of Harry’s eyes and he angrily wiped them away. “How messed up is that? He’s the one who got his heart broken just now and I’m crying.”

“It’s… it’s not your fault you’re not in love with him,” Ron said. “You went out with him because you fancied him, right?”

“I still do,” Harry said. “But I just can’t keep dating him. It’d be leading him on.”

“Who’s to say you won’t fall in love with him?” Ron finally let go of Harry, suddenly very aware of how closely they were pressed together. Harry caught Ron’s gaze and a bolt of lightening careened down his throat. That’s what it felt like. The look Harry was giving him was overwhelming. Ron couldn’t begin to interpret it. He was suddenly struck with a horribly strong urge to press his mouth against Harry’s. It was terrifying, how close Ron got to just kissing Harry but he was snapped out of whatever strange spell this was by the sound of Pigwidgeon tapping frantically at his window. Ron leaped off the bed and hurried to let Pig in, along with an icy wind and a few snowflakes. Ron subdued the miniscule owl and untied Draco’s response from his leg and Pig fluttered over to perch on Harry’s shoulder. For Harry, Ron noted, Pig only nuzzled him rather than giving him sharp nips with his beak. 

Ron unfurled the parchment. “Oh no,” he moaned.

“So he’s coming, then?” Harry said, sounding almost amused. Pigwidgeon hopped off Harry’s shoulder and flew to the top of Ron’s weardrobe.

“Yep.” Ron crumpled the parchment and tossed it at the wall. The cold breeze had snapped him back to his senses and he wasn’t going to make physical contact with Harry for a good while now until he got a handle on his weird urges. 

There was a long awkward silence before Harry spoke. “Ron, I just… I wanted to say, whatever’s going on with you and Malfoy, i-it’s not my business and please, spare me any details, but… I’m really curious. I don’t understand how it happened. You and him… sometimes seemed like you hated him more than I did. Though I don’t think it’s possible.”

“It’s kinda a funny story, actually,” Ron flopped back down next to Harry. “Well, not really funny but, uh… I was in the Hog’s Head one night and I had a few too many. Ended up chucking up in a bin right outside and, well, I’m a little fuzzy on the details but I know Draco did a spell to make me stop puking and then a potion to sober me up so I could apparate home.”

“What? He had potion on him?” Harry asked.

“No. I mean, he took me back to his apartment and brewed the potion for me.” Ron shrugged. “He was being almost nice. For him, I mean. You know, not letting me just puke my brains out and stagger home drunk as I was.”

“It’s good to know he can behave like a decent human being,” Harry said. 

“Yeah, well… I interrogated him about it once I was sober. He said Aberforth put him up to it but I think he was lying. I think he just really needed someone to talk to.” Ron rolled his shoulders. He was tired again. Still hadn’t gotten enough sleep and all this emotional upheaval was killing him. “He started spilling his guts. He’s all alone, you know. His girlfriend killed herself and Goyle won’t speak to him, plus both his parents are in jail.”

“Pansy Parkinson? She’s dead?” Harry had a look of pity and horror on his face.

“Yeah, it’s….” Ron trailed off, there were really no words. “Anyway, we worked together after that for awhile and he wasn’t bad to be around. Not rude or arrogant like before. Still a bit haughty but he was less cold all the time.” Ron laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Then one day me and him were sharing some really good whiskey and he came onto me but I brushed him off. I thought he was messing with me but he, uh, tried it again a week later and I decided to take him up on it. W-we’re not dating or anything like that. Just, sort of… er...”

“I’m never not going to find that repulsive but, well… It’d take a hell of a lot more than this to drive a wedge between us.” Harry laid down next to Ron and reached over to squeeze his hand. Ron’s heart skipped a beat. “I’ll figure out a way to tolerate him.”

“He’s different now,” Ron assured Harry. “Trust me.”

“Suppose I can take your word on this one. I trust you with my life, after all.”

Ron was breaking in half. Any moment now, he’d start bleeding. 

He didn’t sleep well that night, either and he spent the next morning in a haze until George and Bill shoved him onto a couch and threw a blanket over him. Ron took the deepest nap of his life and woke up to the smell of dinner being made. “Damnit,” he grumbled. “I really need to start sleeping at night.”

“Did I keep you awake?” Harry asked. He was sitting in a chair nearby, an open book set in his lap. 

Ron sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning. “No. I’m just used to going to bed at three in the morning or so when I get off work.” More like dawn, if he was with Draco that night. “My sleep is all screwed up for a hundred reasons. You’re not one of them.”

Harry smiled and all dreariness dissolved from Ron’s body. “I wanted to ask you something,” Harry said, his smile faltered and his shoulders were tense. “I-it’s more that, you were, er, right about it being a bad idea for me to live by myself.” Harry dropped his gaze to the floor. “Kreacher’s been good, he makes sure I eat and things but it’s too…”

“Lonely?” Ron sighed.

“Yeah. I just,” Harry paused and looked up but he didn’t quite meet Ron’s gaze. “I wondered if you might want to move into the spare room in my house.” Harry’s gaze flickered to Ron’s eyes for a moment and a flush of scarlet heated his cheeks. 

Ron grinned. “Yeah,” he said. Even as he spoke, he knew this was only going to make things harder. Living alone in a house with Harry would be difficult to say the least but how could Ron refuse? It had clearly taken a great deal out of Harry to even pose the question. Ron noticed everything about Harry’s posture. He looked so relieved when Ron agreed. 

So what if Ron was going to have a hard time keeping himself from kissing Harry? He’d manage. Harry needed him. “Good.”

Although the family was attempting to keep the spirit festive and light, there was a definite edge of tension in the room when Molly called everyone to the table. For a moment, Ron thought Draco wasn’t going to turn up at all but then he heard a knock on the door. Molly got up and rushed to answer it before Ron could even push back his chair. A minute later, she returned carrying a large bouquet of Christmas roses with Draco beside her. There was dead silence in the room until Draco took his seat beside Ron. Harry, curiously, was sitting across the table, although he kept his gaze resolutely on his plate.

“The roses are simply lovely,” Molly said. She magiced them into a vase with a casual wave of her wand and levitated it to the center of the table. “Tuck in, everyone.”

There were general murmurs of requests to have butter or bread or gravy passed and the sense of mounting tension was such that Ron could feel it burning in his ears. He opened his mouth to say something but Draco beat him to it.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” he said. “I know I’m not someone you likely ever expected to eat dinner with-”

“Don’t mention it,” Arthur said. “You’re Ron’s friend, of course you’re welcome at our table.”

Ginny scoffed and Molly shot her a sharp look. Harry kept his eyes on his plate.

Dinner was unusual quiet that night. Halfway through the meal, there was a knock on the door. The Weasley’s looked around at each other in bewilderment as Harry hurried up from the table. “Sorry! I forgot to mention-” he dashed to the door and it was several moments before he returned. “Erm,” he cleared his throat. “I-I forgot that today was… w-well, Malfoy, your mum’s here. Happy Christmas, I suppose.”

Draco looked up, stunned. “You had better not be lying,” he stood up and walked past Harry to the living room. Ron stood and followed. Sure enough, Narcissa Malfoy was standing in the entry way although she hurried forward to embrace her son as soon as Draco was in her sight. 

“Oh, Draco, my son!” Narcissa kissed his face relentlessly. She was thin, slightly gaunt but no less beautiful. Her happiness at being reunited with Draco made her glow. She stepped back and held Draco’s face between her hands. “My darling boy, you’ve gotten taller.”

“How is this possible?” Draco asked, his tone clipped.

Narcissa looked up and caught Harry’s gaze. Draco glanced over his shoulder at Harry then quickly turned back to face his mum. “He got you out of Azkaban?”

“He wrote to the Minister, I’ve been granted a full pardon.” Narcissa looked up again and by now the entire Weasley family was standing around, staring at her. “I beg you’ll excuse me. I only came to take Draco home.” She straightened her skirt and held her arm out for Draco. “Thank you for your hospitality.” 

Dead silence met her proclamation. She seemed unperturbed by this, however. Draco took her arm after giving Ron a fleeting glance and they left. Seven redheads turned their gaze as one to Harry. 

“She saved my life in the Forbidden Forest,” Harry said, going scarlet in the face and staring at his feet. “Sh-she risked her neck, telling Voldemort that I was dead. I know it was so she could go to the castle and find Draco but… she could have just opened my throat with a knife.”

Ginny flinched. “Harry, don’t say things like that.”

“Well,” Molly said. “I’ll thank you to give us a little warning before someone shows up unannounced, Harry.” She gave him a much softened version of her stern look. 

“Right, I’m really sorry. Dunno how it slipped my mind. Honest, it’s sort of a big deal, isn’t it?” Harry cleared his throat. “C-can we go back to the table and finish dinner? I’m really hungry all of the sudden.” 

Everyone was keen to get back to the table. Ron expected Harry to take Draco’s vacated spot beside him but Harry took his seat between Bill and Percy. Still, he was directly across from Ron so Ron could still look at him. It was somewhat distracting. For once, Ron ate fairly slowly. He kept staring at Harry. He knew he should try and be more subtle about it but Harry kept looking down at his plate and Ron’s whole family already knew he fancied Harry so what was the point? Ron liked looking.

After several helpings of Molly’s best desserts, Bill, Charlie and Percy bid their goodbyes, there was much hugging and kissing and no small amount of tears on Molly’s part. Ron thought he spotted his dad tearing up a bit, too. After that, everyone was sleepy from so much food so they all went up to bed. Ron felt strangely relieved when Harry came up into the attic with him. “Harry,” Ron said. “Thanks. For getting Draco’s mum out of prison. Sounds like she was really impor-” Harry cut Ron off, pulling him into a tight hug. “Wh-what’s wrong, mate?”

“Sorry,” Harry said, pulling away. “I just… got overwhelmed. I don’t like talking about what happened in that forest. It wasn’t for Draco, you have to know that.” Harry took his glasses off and tossed them carelessly onto the side-table. He rubbed his eyes. 

“You look really worn out, Harry. Maybe we should just go to bed.” Ron’s ears turned pink a moment later when he realized how that sounded. He casually put the lights out with his Put Outer and then set it next to Harry’s glasses. 

“Is it alright for us to be sharing a bed? I-I mean, Draco and everything.”

Ron laughed. “You called him Draco, that’s… I dunno if I’ve ever heard you call him that!”

Harry shrugged. “I’m tired of all the pointless animosity. I just don’t give a damn about him anymore.”

“I don’t believe you.” Ron shook his head. “I don’t think you have it in you not to give a damn.” Ron laid down on the bed. “If you’re worried about it, I’ll tell him. If he cares, well, that’s too bloody bad for him, isn’t it? He can’t tell me what to do. He’s not my boyfriend.”

It was still a few moments before Harry climbed in next to Ron. Ron had half wished Harry would decide to sleep in another bedroom anyway. It was such a delightful torture to lay next to Harry. Ron had to fight an incredibly painful urge to wrap Harry in his arms. “Do you want to be dating him?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ron answered immediately. “Both of us think that’d be a terrible idea.”

Harry was silent for a long time. Ron wanted so badly to tell Harry that he wanted to be _his_ boyfriend. He wanted to kiss him and hold him and take him on dates and tell him a bunch of sappy nonsense that he was sure would sound dumb. Instead, he just laid there, silently, inhaling the faint smell of Harry. A smell he remembered from Potions class in their Sixth year together, wafting out of the cauldron full of Amortentia, along with a smell like Hermione and chocolate. The pain of keeping all of this inside was tantamount to real torture. He felt like little bits of his insides were being torn out, leaving hollow spaces that still hurt even though they were empty. Harry shifted closer to Ron and Ron shivered at the closeness. “I’m sure you’d be a good boyfriend. For anybody.”

Ron wanted to cry.


	8. Dreadful

“Well, that’s the last of it,” Ron said, stepping out of Harry’s floo with his old school trunk full of odds and ends. “Sorry I took so long. Mum was crying buckets.”

 

“It’s alright. Kreacher brought most of your things up to your room already,” Harry said. “Do you need my help with the trunk?” Harry was sitting on the couch, a book open in his lap.

 

“Nah,” Ron said, drawing his wand. He levitated the trunk a few inches off the ground and brought it up the stairs. He came back down a few moments later and paused at the foot of the stairs. The sun was setting and a beam of orange light was coming in through the window, shining right on Harry. Harry looked so lovely in the glow that it took Ron a moment to gather his wits. He took a deep breath and hopped down the landing, glad that Harry had been too engrossed in his book to notice how he’d been staring at him. He sighed. “I have to get to work.” He cleared his throat and shifted his feet awkwardly. “I-I dunno if I’ll be back tonight o-or not.”

 

“Go on, then,” Harry said without looking up from his book. “I reckon I can handle a night without you.”

 

Ron laughed and stepped outside to Apparate to work. Ever since that morning when he’d started packing his things, he’d felt like tiny knives were slowly carving up the inside of his chest. At times, it was hard to breathe. This wasn’t normal. Ron landed in front of the Hog’s Head and started clearing snow away from the front walk with his wand.

 

After all this time, all this stuffing the feelings down and trying to ignore them, Ron still felt wretched. This was just some stupid crush, wasn’t it? Ron winced and started defrosting the windows outside. If it was just a crush, it wouldn’t hurt so much. Ron was just going to have to admit that it was far beyond the realm of him simply fancying Harry. This feeling in his chest, like something way too big to be in there was trying to claw its way out, that wasn’t just being disappointed, that wasn’t just lust run amok. All the anger he’d felt and still felt toward Neville, that wasn’t average jealousy. The thought of Harry and Neville together still made Ron’s stomach churn. He was losing focus, the windows weren’t defrosting as fast as they should.

 

Ron kicked the snow off his boots and unlocked the front door. It took three tries for Ron to charm his shoes dry. What was the matter with him? He barely got the bar clean in time. Draco walked in as he was wiping the bar down by hand because he was just too frustrated and sad to do magic.

 

“What happened?” Draco demanded as he walked up to the bar. “Did you take ill? I thought you were coming over Christmas Night and you look dreadful.”

 

“I feel dreadful.” Ron threw himself down onto a bar-stool. “I’m sorry, I thought you wouldn’t want my company, what with your mum being home. Thought you’d like to spend time with her.”

 

“My mother is staying at the Black Mansion. Potter’s renting her the place. I’m staying in my apartment.” Draco peeled his gloves off and stuffed them in the pocket of his cloak. “I’m glad she’s out of Azkaban but I like my privacy.” Draco sat down beside Ron. “I predict another slow night.”

 

Ron just grunted. “I should tell you, I moved into the spare room in Harry’s house.”

 

“Really?” Draco smirked. “And you felt like you should tell me?”

 

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Ron asked. “Supposed to tell each other everything. Oh,” Ron frowned. “He slept in my bed the other night, too. For some reason, he was worried that’d bother you.”

 

Draco was silent for so long that Ron started to get worried. “Why did you move in with him?”

 

Ron took a deep breath. “Because he asked me to.”

 

“Why did you and him sleep in the same bed?”

 

Ron’s ears went scarlet.

 

“He asked you to, didn’t he?” Draco said, he sounded haughty again. “You’d do anything he asked, wouldn’t you?”

 

“He doesn’t ask for a whole lot,” Ron said. He looked to the front of the shop. It was snowing hard again. No one was going to trek way out to the Hog’s Head in that weather. He might as well have stayed in Godric’s Hollow.

 

“Ronald, you’re not still trying to deny the fact you’re in love with him?” Draco asked. His voice was oddly softened.

 

“I’m not-!” To his horror, Ron’s breath caught in his throat. He took a few deep breaths.

 

“I warned you in the beginning how much it would hurt later if you tried to deny it,” Draco said sadly. To Ron’s great shock, Draco wrapped his arms around him. In Draco’s arms, some of the pain lessened and Ron was able to get ahold of himself and finish off his shift with no problems.

 

It took him longer than usual to clean up after they closed the bar. He had to do half of the things by hand. He didn’t want to think about it too much but the fact that his magic didn’t seem to want to work properly today was troubling to say the least. “You’ve been ages,” Draco said, shivering out in the snow where he’d been waiting for Ron.

 

“You didn’t have to wait out in the cold.” Ron pulled out his wand and tried to perform a warm-up charm on Draco but it barely did anything. Ron grumbled.

 

Draco gave him a sharp look. “What’s going on?” He rubbed his arms. “It’s a simple enough charm.”

 

“I-I dunno,” Ron said, shrugging. “I just don’t feel like I’ve got it in me f-for some reason.”

 

“You need to tell Potter how you feel straight away, Ronald,” Draco said. “This isn’t right. If it’s affecting your magic like this.”

 

“Maybe I _am_ a bit sick,” Ron said.

 

Draco laughed, coldly. He put his hand on Ron’s elbow and Apparated.  They ended up in a wooded area nearly a mile from where Harry lived. “I don’t suppose you’ll want me to walk you home?” Draco asked.

 

“Why’d you do that?” Ron demanded. “I could’ve done it myself.”

 

“Right,” Draco said. “I’d never knowingly let you splinch yourself, remember?” Draco reached up and straightened Ron’s collar. “Are you going to take my advice this time?”

 

“M-maybe I’m not really in love with him, I just-”

 

“I knew you weren’t the brightest but, honestly, I thought you were cleverer than this. You’re so love-sick over Potter that you can’t perform a simple charm. Yet you try to deny it.” Draco shook his head, sneering slightly.

 

“You don’t have to be such a dick about it!” Ron spat. “I’m trying to get over it, trying to forget and you keep throwing it in my face!” Ron kicked snow at Draco.

 

Draco cleared the distance between him and Ron in three strides and stared Ron down. Ron, pathetically, backed up until his back hit a tree. Draco could look pretty scary when he wanted to. “Let me know if you ever manage that.” Draco disapparated a moment later, leaving Ron confused, angry and frustrated.

 

By the time Ron returned home, his toes were numb and he was shivering uncontrollably. Harry, Ron saw, had fallen asleep on the couch. Ron took several deep, bracing breaths and stepped over to Harry. He touched Harry’s foot. “Harry,” he said gently. “Harry, you should sleep in a bed.”

 

“Ron…” Harry murmured, smiling sleepily he blinked a few times and yawned, rubbing his eyes, pushing his already askew glasses off his face. Ron caught them before they hit the ground. Harry sat up, suddenly alert. Ron sat down beside Harry and gently put his glasses back on his face. “Jeez, I was really asleep.” Harry yawned again.

 

“Er, yeah, sorry I woke you up,” Ron said. “I just thought the couch isn’t really comfortable.”

 

“Are you alright?” Harry looked askance at Ron and then lightly put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re shivering.” Harry drew his wand and performed the same, simple warm-up charm Ron had attempted on Draco. Only Harry’s charm worked. Ron instantly stopped shivering and was able to relax just a bit.

 

“Thanks,” Ron muttered. “I, uh…” Ron glanced at Harry and he felt his ears going pink. Now he knew how Harry felt all those months ago when he’d been afraid to tell Ron he was gay. Ron was paralyzed with fear. He just couldn’t predict how Harry would take the news that his best mate was hopelessly in love with him. But Ginny had been right. How much longer could Ron be expected to keep something like this from Harry?

 

“Did something happen?” Harry turned toward Ron, hand gripping his shoulder a bit more tightly.

 

“I’ve h-had a long day.” Ron rubbed his eyes. “C’mon, it’s the middle of the night, we both should be sleeping.”

 

Harry stood up and reached out a hand to haul Ron to his feet. “Something happened today, Ron. You were acting funny all afternoon. Looked like you had a stomach ache. Now you’re… I can tell something’s up. I dunno what went on and I guess you don’t feel like talking about it but whatever it is….” Harry pulled Ron into a tight hug. “I hope you feel better.”

 

Ron hugged Harry back and for quite a long time, he was unable to bring himself to let go. Harry, bless him, didn’t try to force the issue either. When Ron finally stepped away, he felt wobbly, like his knees had been replaced with rubber. “I’ve just had a bad day is all, Harry. Don’t worry.”

 

“Alright.” Harry gave Ron one last pensive look and then bid him good night.

 

It took Ron a very long time to go to sleep that night. The sun was starting to rise before he finally drifted off.

 

Getting out of bed the next day was difficult, to say the least. Ron was lethargic and drowsy when he got up around 3 in the afternoon. Starved, as well. He bolted down some very hot soup Kreacher had made and scorched his throat a bit. “Ron?” Harry said. He was sitting across from Ron although he’d presumably already eaten lunch. “Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah,” Ron replied. He gulped down some ice water to soothe his throat. “Just drowsy.”

 

“Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?” Harry asked.

 

“Nothing happened yesterday. I just felt a bit off. Think it was something I ate.” Ron shrugged.

 

Harry looked doubtful. “Your mum’s been cooking all your food until today. I’m just worried about you. I’ve been all wrapped up in my own head, I haven’t been paying you enough attention. You’ve, er, seemed pretty sad a lot of the time lately.”

 

“I’m just in a bit of a funk.” Ron shifted uncomfortably. He was basically _lying_ to Harry now. Just one more thing to feel terrible about.

 

“You’ve done so much for me the past few months, isn’t there anything I can do to help you?” Harry asked.

  
“What are you talking about?” Ron replied. “I haven’t done that much.”

 

“Reminding me about how your family sees me as one of their own, and letting me, er, sleep in your bed when I was having a hard time. Being there for me after… Neville.” Harry cleared his throat. “Living here with me when I’ve been such a head-case lately?” Harry shrugged. “Take your pick. You’re always doing things for me. Always have. I’m really grateful but I think it’s my turn.”

 

“Harry, I-I dunno…” Ron bit his lip. “I think this is one of those things that are only helped along by time.”

 

“Well, alright…” Harry sighed. “You probably have to get to work soon, huh?”

 

Ron looked at his watch. “Yeah. I’m already a little late. I’d better go.” Ron cast Harry one last look over his shoulder before heading outside to Disapparate.

 

He couldn’t. Ron tried several more times before realizing, with dismay that he just didn’t have it in him. “Kreacher?” he called out, tentatively. He looked over his shoulder at the big picture window in the front of Harry’s house, to make sure Harry wasn’t looking. He wasn’t. Kreacher appeared promptly, bowing low. “Can you do me a favor without telling Harry about it?”

 

“Kreacher can try. If Master asks about the favor specifically, Kreacher cannot lie to master,” Kreacher said.

 

“Er, of course you can’t.” Ron held out his hand. “Can you bring me to the Hog’s Head?”

 

“Kreacher certainly can take Master’s Wheezy to work.” Kreacher took Ron’s hand and they disapparated with a crack right outside the door to the Hog’s Head. Most unfortunately, Draco was approaching at that moment and spotted Ron being brought in by Kreacher.

 

“You’re early,” Ron said.

 

“You’re late,” Draco retorted, eyebrow raised. “I stopped by Honeydukes and I’ve been walking round Hogsmeade waiting for you to come unlock the bar.”

 

Ron politely dismissed Kreacher and went about unlocking the door and clearing snow off the front walk. He was delighted that he was at least able to do these spells. Although, as soon as he followed Draco into the warm, dry bar, Ron was having trouble once again with his cleaning spells. He had to clean the bathroom almost entirely by hand and he didn’t finish before the first customer arrived. It was a seventh year Hufflepuff boy that Ron vaguely recognized. Draco had already served him a drink.

 

Ron sat at the far end of the bar and laid his head on the tabletop.

 

“You look like hell,” Draco said.

 

Ron looked up and saw Draco leaning against the barstool beside him. “Sure-fire way to make me feel better right there.”

 

“Come over tonight so you can finally get your present.” Draco trailed his cool fingers briefly along the curve of Ron’s ear.

 

“I d-didn’t get you anything,” Ron said, flushing furiously. Toying with his ears wasn’t fair and Draco knew it.

 

“Don’t be daft.” Draco turned away and strode across the bar.

 

In spite of himself, Ron couldn’t help watching Draco as he walked away. Funnily enough, he was able to do spells the rest of the night with no trouble. He supposed it had to do with the fluttering feeling of anticipation he got in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought about what this present might be.

 

As soon as Ron had locked up the bar, Draco grabbed him by the arm and Apparated straight to his bedroom. “Oi,” Ron said when they arrived. “Give a bloke some warning.”

 

“Sorry,” Draco said as he undid his tie. He didn’t look sorry. He looked downright predatory. “Forgot my manners.”

 

Ron sat down on Draco’s bed and watched him undress. For a fleeting moment, when Draco was smiling at him, Ron’s mind wandered to Harry. Ron blinked a few times and took a deep breath. “This my present?” Ron asked. “Private strip show?”

 

Draco threw his pants at Ron and caught him around the face. “I thought you’d take it as a hint to undress yourself.”

 

Ron stood and tossed Draco’s pants aside, wincing slightly when he realized they were likely incredibly expensive. He felt guilty for tossing them on the floor. “Can’t help savoring the view,” Ron said. He tugged his shirt and pants off, left the boxers on.

 

“Ha!” said Draco. “You’ll get nowhere with that sort of compliment. I’ve heard it loads of times.” He rested his cool fingers on Ron’s chest. Ron winced slightly. He remembered that Harry’s hands were warm and he wanted to smack himself.

 

“Wait…” Ron put his hands on Draco’s elbows and lightly pushed him away. He was steadily losing his enthusiasm for this. It didn’t feel right, the way Harry kept popping up in his head. Ron backed away from Draco and tugged his pants back on. “I… I can’t do this right now.”

 

Draco’s brow furrowed in concern. He tugged his own pants back on without bothering with his boxers and patted Ron on the arm. “I had a feeling this would happen soon. It’s alright, Ron.”

 

“Huh? What d’you mean?” Ron asked.

 

“This is it for us fooling around,” Draco said. “I thought I’d get one more night out of you…” Draco shook his head, smirking. “Hell, maybe you’ll come back to me some day if you ever get over him. For now, though, it feels like I’d be wasting my time. Sometimes, I even think you and Potter must be meant to be.” Draco said this with no small amount of disdain.

 

“What?” Ron said, ears positively purple at hearing those words out of Draco. “N-no way! That’s… that’d be… No chance.”

 

“Get  your clothes on, Ron. I’ll take you back to Godric’s Hollow.” Draco tugged his shirt back on but didn’t bother with the tie and threw his robes over it.

 

“What makes you think me and Harry are… that’s…” It was completely out of the question. No way. It was an entirely absurd idea. Nothing that nice ever happened to Ron.

 

Ron wanted to throw up. He threw his clothes back on and held his hand out for Draco, while staring at his feet. Draco grasped his hand tightly and they Apparated. To Ron’s very great surprise, Draco had brought him right inside the boundary of Harry’s property. “Have you been here before?” Ron asked.

 

He shook his head. “I’ve been next door.” Draco jerked his head in the direction of Bathilda Bagshot’s house. Or rather, the empty field of snow where her house once stood. “I don’t want to talk about it, either.” Draco surprised Ron again when he followed him inside. “Pardon the intrusion,” he said to Harry, who had, once again, fallen asleep on the couch. However, he’d leapt up, alert as can be when Draco Malfoy walked into his sitting room.

 

“Er…” Harry said, gaze flickering between Ron and Draco a few times. “S’alright. Bit late though, isn’t it?”

 

“I had something important I needed to tell you,” Draco said. He grabbed Ron by the elbow and tugged him over to Harry. “I’m sure you have no idea you’ve done anything but you have.”

 

“Draco, shut-” Ron said.

 

Draco flicked his wand casually at Ron and silenced him with a charm. “The two of you need to sort this out because it’s getting on my nerves.” Draco turned and walked out of the house, not giving Ron a second look as he glared furiously after the blond.

 

Harry quickly reversed Draco’s hex and stared stonily at the door he’d exited through. “I dunno what you see in that arse.”

 

Ron shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. He’s probably a bit sore because we’ve, er, decided to stop with… stuff you don’t want to hear about, basically.”

 

Harry seemed to freeze in place for a moment. “You broke up with him?”

 

“We weren’t really going out,” Ron reminded Harry.

 

“What was he going on about? What mental thing is he accusing me of doing?” Harry asked.

 

Lying to Harry wasn’t quite like lying to anyone else. “I dunno,” Ron said, shrugging. He felt a pang in his chest, telling this lie to Harry. It was so blatant. “He’s gotten really awkward with people, I’ve noticed. Used to be so charming but, er, the war screwed him up.”

 

Harry frowned. “Well, alright,” Harry said. “I’m going up to bed.”

 

“Good night,” Ron said, trying not to sound too miserable.

 

Ron’s head was spinning. He was sure he’d lie awake for hours but he actually managed to fall asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

The lake looked particularly lovely that evening. The sunset reflected in a riot of color across its glass smooth surface and it sparkled in the waning light. This sight, however beautiful, didn’t hold a candle to the man sitting beside Ron at the edge of that lake. Harry was barefoot and leaning on his elbows, face stretched skyward and eyes closed. Ron kept glancing over at Harry so much that Harry felt his gaze and looked at him. Ron about melted under his gaze. “That look could turn a man inside out,” Harry said.

 

“What?” Ron asked, frowning. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“Neither do your lies.” Harry’s voice seemed to trail off in a hiss.

 

The ground beneath Ron felt suddenly slanted and he was sliding slowly toward the lake. He couldn’t make himself stand up or move backwards. He was being pulled irresistibly into the water. “Harry, help me!” Ron called out, as he clawed at the grass.

 

“Of course,” Harry reached out and grabbed Ron’s hand. “How dumb of me.” He helped Ron to his feet and Ron stood on solid ground. “Are you alright? Oh no,” Harry shook his head.”You’re not.”

 

Ron shrugged. “I suppose not.”

 

“It’s alright.” Harry smiled sadly, turning his back to Ron. Ron looked up and was stunned to see a dementor behind Harry, gliding slowly toward him. Harry started walking right at it! Ron tried to draw his wand but his arms suddenly felt like lead. He tried to cry out to warn Harry away but his voice was caught in his throat. He watched the Dementor lower its hood and draw Harry up to it. Far from resisting, Harry stood on his toes to make it easier. “I’m not alright either.” As the words left his lips, the Dementor’s mouth clamped down over Harry’s and Ron could do nothing but sink to his knees and scream in agony.

 

“Ron!” Harry’s voice broke through Ron’s dream. “Ron! Please w-wake up!”

 

Ron dragged himself out of his slumber slowly and with great effort. His arms and legs still felt immovable for a moment while his brain had fully woken. He struggled against that horrible, paralyzed feeling until he could sit up and open his eyes. “M’alright, Harry. What’re doin’?” Well, his brain may not have been fully awake yet.

 

“Y-you…” Harry seemed out of breath. He sat down beside Ron and took hold of his hand. “You were screaming so badly, I thought you’d been attacked so I rushed in but… looked like you were having a really terrible dream.

 

Ron’s stomach turned over as images from the nightmare flashed through his mind. “I h-had a pretty bad one, yeah. About a Dementor. It, er…” Ron trailed off, feeling awkward.

 

Harry shivered. “Dementors still scare the daylights out of me,” he admitted. “I’d probably scream like that if I had a dream about one attacking me.”

 

“Didn’t attack me,” Ron said. He shook his head. “It attacked you.”

 

It was difficult to see Harry in the dark so Ron was somewhat surprised when Harry hugged him tightly. “I’ve had dreams like that loads of nights.” Harry pulled away and patted Ron on the arm. “About you, Hermione, members of your family.” Harry shrugged. “I think it’s part of processing it all. I wrote to Hermione about my nightmares. I-it helped a lot.” Ron could see Harry duck his head and he smiled. Harry always looked so cute when he did that. “S-so did sleeping in your bed. I didn’t have dreams like that nearly so often with you right next to me.”

 

“Maybe that’ll work for me,” Ron said. He moved over toward the wall and laid down. Even as he was doing this, he knew it was probably not a great idea. Being close to Harry was some kind of exquisite torture. Still, Ron couldn’t resist an excuse to get just a morsel of closeness out of Harry. Was that maybe a little bit sick? Ron was too tired to consider that right now.

 

As Ron began to fall asleep, he felt Harry’s warm hand on his wrist and he smiled sleepily. He had no more nightmares that night.

 

 


	9. Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last nail in the coffin, the final straw. It's no longer possible to keep this love at bay.

The next morning, Ron woke with a start as Harry climbed out of his bed. “Sorry,” Harry muttered. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’alright.” Ron sat up and yawned, stretching out his arms. He looked over at Harry who was standing oddly still, looking at him. “What?”

Harry blinked and snapped his gaze to Ron’s eyes. “Huh? O-oh, I’m still waking up.” Harry rubbed his eyes.

Lying again. Didn’t Harry realize that Ron could always tell? A startling thought occurred to Ron then that, perhaps, Harry could always tell when Ron lied as well. Ron could think of nothing to say and instead got dressed with a curious lump in his throat.

“Ron,” Harry said, startling Ron out of his haze. “This is driving me mad. I know something’s going on that you’re not telling me about. Thinking back on it, there’s been something going on for a while now, right?” Harry took a few steps toward Ron and Ron was visited by the strange urge to run for it. “It seems like you’ve been all… locked up inside yourself. And you’re hiding something big.”

Ron was silent for a few moments, the lump in his throat throbbing. For a horrifying instant, Ron thought he was going to burst into tears but he managed to compose himself. “I-I’ve got to work this one out myself.”

From the look on Harry’s face, Ron may as well have hit him. “I just want to do something for _you_ for a change. You’ve always been there for me when I needed you the most. You followed me straight through absolute _hell_. You put up with the worst sort of nastiness for me and I just want to return the favor.”

It was really difficult now, to fight back the horrible urge to break down. “If there was some way you could help, I’d tell you, honestly. For now, just try not to worry about me. I’ve got through worse.”

“Alright.” Harry walked out of the room without another word. He was deeply engrossed in a book again when Ron came down the stairs a half hour later after showering and trying to psyche himself up into acting more cheerfully. Ron sighed and eyed the front of the book. He didn’t recognize the title or the author and there was something funny about the way it was bound.

“Why is it you’re always reading nowadays?” Ron asked. It should have struck him before now how often Harry was reading books.

It was a few moments before Harry put a bookmark between the pages and looked up. “Sorry? Oh… er, it’s a bit stupid, really.” Harry set the book aside. “I’ve been going to Muggle libraries and reading books from the fantasy section because the Dursleys would never let me read anything with magic in it. Plus, I miss Hermione a bit less when I’m reading.”

Ron mulled that over for a moment. “Doesn’t sound stupid to me at all.”

**=-=**

 

It was getting a bit embarrassing to keep asking Kreacher to bring him to work but Ron had still not been able to Apparate. That night, he couldn’t help but notice that Draco was acting rather stiffly. Unfortunately, Ron had no opportunity to ask him about it as they were swamped with business. Ron was startled when Luna Lovegood came in shortly after they opened. “Luna!” he said, beaming as he hurried over to give her a hug. “Term hasn’t started yet, has it?”

“Oh no,” Luna said, drifting over to the bar. Aberforth made a rare trip to the front to bring her a colorful drink with a pineapple wedge crammed on the brim. She thanked him and turned back to Ron. “I stayed at Hogwarts because Daddy is still fixing up the house.”

“Ah!” Ron said, remembering only too well the occasion on which the Lovegood’s home had been half demolished. “I’m glad you finally came back to the bar. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Oh?” Luna raised her eyebrows at that.

“Er, yeah. Harry said you’re really brilliant at sending message by Patronus and I’ve been wanting to learn how its done. Think you could teach me?”

“That was sweet of Harry to say.” Luna took a sip of her drink and looked Ron up and down appraisingly. “I’m sure I could teach you.” Luna nodded. “Meet me in the Entrance Hall around noon tomorrow.”  
  


“Brilliant! Thanks, Luna. I know you have N.E.W.T.s to study for and everything.” Ron chatted with her briefly before he had to go off and help another customer.

Finally, closing time came. Rather than leaving or going outside, Draco sat quietly at the bar while Ron cleaned the place. The atmosphere was definitely awkward. Several times, Ron was on the point of saying something but couldn’t think what to say. Once everything was clean, Ron walked up to Draco and sat down next to him. “What’s up?” Ron asked.

Draco spared Ron a glance. “I saw Kreacher bringing you again. You haven’t talked to Potter, have you?”

Ron bristled. “Did it ever occur to you that I don’t _want_ Harry to know?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m aware that you’d rather he not find out. I also know that you’re stupid to try and keep it from him.” Draco stood and fastened his cloak. “If he hasn’t realized that something is wrong by now, he’s dumber than even _I_ imagined-”

Ron stood as well, arms folded over his chest and glad, once again, that he was taller than Draco. “Don’t call Harry dumb. He’s really smart, you know. Did really well on his O.W.Ls and everything. I don’t reckon an idiot could’ve defeated Lord Voldemort either.”

Draco flinched at the sound of the name. “ _Fine_.”

“Besides, he does know something is up.” Ron’s posture slumped. “It’s probably inevitable, really. I’ve never been great at hiding my emotions.”

“All the more reason to tell him. Before it destroys you.” Draco brushed past Ron and exited the bar.

Ron sighed and called for Kreacher to bring him home. Curiously, they ended up in the kitchen. Normally, Kreacher brought them somewhere outside, out of view of the house. Before Ron had gotten his bearings, Kreacher muttered a hurried apology and rushed forward to greet Harry. “Master requires Kreacher’s help?” he asked, bowing low.

Harry was staring, flabbergasted at Ron. “Wh-what were you doing with Ron?” Harry asked, turning his attention back to the elf.

Ron wanted to melt into the floor.

“Master’s Wheezy asked Kreacher to bring him home from work,” Kreacher replied. “Kreacher is sorry. Master’s Wheezy asked Kreacher not to tell Master. But Master called Kreacher as Kreacher Disapparated with the Wheezy.”

“A-alright,” Harry said. He glanced at Ron for a brief moment before dismissing Kreacher without telling him why he’d called in the first place. “I take it you probably don’t want to talk about all of that?”

Ron shrugged but said nothing.

Harry sighed. “Good night, Ron.” Harry went up to bed and Ron stood in the kitchen for several minutes, feeling miserable before going up to his own room.

= - =

Although Ron had been working a short walk away from Hogwarts for several months, now, he hadn’t really even looked at the castle until the next morning. The walk from Hogsmeade station took fifteen minutes but Ron didn’t mind. It was cold and there was a good measure of snow on the ground but he was able to melt a path with his wand. Curiously, the sight of the castle lifted Ron’s spirits. There were painful memories as well but for the most part, Ron felt a bit like he was coming home after a long absence.

He was a nervous as he walked through the front doors to the Entrance Hall. It occurred to him then that he hadn’t asked McGonagall's permission to be there. Perhaps he should have. After all, he wasn’t a student any longer. The thought went out of his mind a moment later when he saw Luna sitting on the bannister at the bottom of the great staircase. He beamed at her and hurried over. “Thanks again, Luna,” Ron said, smiling.

“You’re very welcome. I’m always delighted to pass on knowledge.” Luna took Ron’s hand and lead him to one of the empty classrooms. Ron grinned, not at all feeling awkward to be hand-in-hand with Luna. “Alright, the concept of a message Patronus is quite simple, although tricky to accomplish.”

“Right,” said Ron. “I figured it’d be difficult.”

Luna nodded. “Not only do you have to have a happy memory in mind when you conjure it, but also the person to whom the message is intended and the message itself. All at once. Then you say the incantation. I find it much easier to try and remember the _feelings_ of being very happy and let them fill you.” Luna took a few steps away from Ron. “I will demonstrate." Luna closed her eyes for a moment and then flicked her wand and said “Expecto Patronum.” Her exceptionally bright rabbit hopped through the air to Ron and spoke with her voice, “That’s how it’ll look.” Before it vanished.

Ron grinned again. “Okay, I think I’ve got the idea. Thinking about all that at once is going to be hard though.”

“Try it in stages. First cast a Patronus, then, cast a Patronus while focusing on me so it will go to me even though it won’t have a message and then try all three.” Luna suggested

Ron nodded and closed his eyes, trying to think of a happy memory. Nothing in the past few months was quite strong enough. He had to remember back all the way to the Battle for Hogwarts, when he realized that Harry was alive. He couldn’t think of a time in his life he’d ever been more happy. Without opening his eyes, Ron cast his Patronus.

Luna gasped. “Oh, but wasn’t your Patronus a dog?” she asked.

Ron opened his eyes and saw a large, vibrantly shining Patronus in the shape of, of all things, a _doe_. “No…” Ron muttered, looking down at his wand as though it could explain to him why his Patronus had changed. “Oh, bloody hell…”

Luna walked through Ron’s Patronus as it faded and took hold of his hand once more. “It’s okay, Ronald. People’s Patronuses can change, you know. Yours is probably a doe now because you’re in love with someone who’s Patronus is also a deer.”

“I only know one other person with a deer as their Patronus,” Ron said, laughing bitterly.

  
“You are in love with Harry Potter. Why do you seem so sad about it?” Luna asked, giving Ron’s hand a squeeze.

“H-he’s my best mate. He’d never, er…” Ron swallowed. “It’s really complicated.”

“No it isn’t.” Luna shook her head, fervently. “I promise you, it’s quite simple.”

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked.

“Tell Harry how you feel,” Luna said. “You’ll understand how simple it is if you do. Keeping it all inside…” Luna let go of Ron’s hand and patted his chest instead. “That’s complicated and hard. No matter what happens, I promise, it’s easier if you tell him.”

“What if he freaks out?” Ron asked. “What if he’s revolted by the idea?”

Luna shook her head. “I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. What if Harry fancies you? What if he’s been hoping you make a move on him? What if the two of you are meant to be?”

Ron flinched. “That could never happen.”

“Why not?” Luna stepped away and eyed Ron with her lamp-like eyes. “If it’s even remotely possible, you ought to try for it. The worst that happens is Harry rejects you but you can recover from that. You could do yourself serious damage holding it all in, you know. Love isn’t something to mess around with. I’ve heard stories of people forever losing their magic from unresolved broken hearts.”

“Really?” Ron shifted nervously, remembering the difficulties he’d been having lately with his magic.

Luna nodded. “Never forget that the power Harry had that defeated Voldemort at last was love. It’s the most powerful force in the universe.”

Ron sighed. “Okay, l-let’s forget this Patronus stuff for now.” Ron scratched the back of his neck, staring at his feet.

“Of course.” Luna smiled in her sweet, vacant sort of way. “I’m in love with Ginevra, you know.”

“Huh?” Ron said, startled. “What? Really? Does she know?”

“I’m sure she does.” Luna smiled a little wider.

“Does she love you back?” Ron asked. He had no clue whether or not Ginny fancied girls, now that he thought of it.

“You’ll have to ask her,” Luna said. “It’s not really my place to tell you about her feelings.” She sighed happily. “I couldn’t keep my own in.”

Ron could only assume, from how happy Luna looked, that Ginny must return her feelings. “Well, alright then.”

“You’re not upset with me?” Luna asked. “I’ve noticed you tend to be very tense with people who fancy your sister.”

“Yeah, well, none of them have been _you_ , yet. I wasn’t so bad about Harry dating her.” Ron shrugged. “I dunno, I guess I trust you to take really good care of her.”

Luna laughed. “You’re funny, Ronald. Ginevra can take care of herself.”

“That’s true.” Ron sighed again.

“She was my best friend,” Luna said. “And nothing bad happened when I told her I loved her.”

“Everyone keeps telling me to tell Harry how I feel but no one seems to get how tough that is!” Ron said. “He’s not just my best mate, he’s _Harry Potter_.”

Luna nodded and looped her arm through Ron’s, leading him out of the classroom. “That’s precisely _why_ you should tell him.” They walked out of the castle onto the soggy grounds. The afternoon had warmed a bit, causing the snow to start melting and leaving muddy, cold puddles all over the lawn. “These things are never as difficult or painful as we think they will be. Trust me, the reward outweighs the risk. I’ve even thought, on occasion, that Harry’s had feelings for you.”

“What?” Ron looked at Luna, startled. “That’s… what? Wouldn’t I have noticed?”

Luna shrugged. “Has Harry noticed you’re in love with him?”

“I don’t think he has. He knows there’s something up, though.” Ron looked up at the steely gray sky. He wished it was Summer.

“Oh, Ronald.” Luna shook her head. “I think it’s a bit unkind, you know. Loving Harry Potter and not telling him. He’s had so little genuine love in his life and you’re holding yours back from him.”

That thought had never occurred to Ron. Of course, he knew that Harry hadn’t gotten much, if any, love from the Dursleys. But the whole Wizarding community loved him! When Ron pointed that out to Luna, she shook her head again, sighing.

“It’s not the same at all. No one knows Harry the way you do.” Luna released Ron and stretched out her arms, doing a twirl of sorts as she walked. “You know the real Harry, not the legend, and you love him. Not because he saved us all from Voldemort, you love him for who he honestly is. That’s really significant and you owe it to Harry to tell him.”

“But-”

“No buts, Ronald.” Luna put her hand over Ron’s mouth to stop him protesting and they halted at the winged-boar flanked entrance gate. “Go tell Harry you love him. I promise it won’t be as awful as you think.” Luna kissed him on the cheek and flounced away, leaving Ron feeling conflicted.

On the one hand, the things Luna had said made a lot of sense. It really was sort of unfair of him to love Harry and not tell him. Harry who had had so little love. Harry who was so wonderful and funny and brave. His head was so full of Harry that it took Ron a moment to realize he’d Apparated to Godric’s Hollow all on his own without the help of Kreacher. He walked up the front porch, his heart beating far too fast and swallowed hard. _He was going to tell Harry_. Now was as good a time as any, right?

Harry was reading again. A different book than the last time. Ron took the few moments while Harry was too engrossed in his book to notice him to take a good, long look at Harry. He really was so handsome and Ron felt that tugging, insistent urge to gather Harry in his arms and kiss him but he cleared his throat instead. “Harry?”

Harry looked up, startled. He’d clearly been lost in his book. “Back so soon?” Harry asked, looking at his watch. “Don’t you have work?”

“Er, no, I don’t work Tuesdays and Wednesdays. The Hog’s Head is too slow those nights.” Ron shrugged and walked over to the couch. “Will you go for a walk with me?”

Harry cast a bewildered look to the window. It wasn’t really good walking weather but it was important that Ron got Harry outside. “‘Course.” Harry marked his page and walked to the closet to grab his coat. Ron still thought it was odd that Harry wore Muggle coats instead of cloaks.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked after a few minutes of walking in silence.

“I-I need to show you something and it’s gotta be where Muggles can’t see.” Ron gestured to the wooded area a few yards ahead of them.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, lightly putting a hand on Ron’s shoulder. “You’ve been acting really strange and now you seem all nervous.”

“I’m fine,” Ron lied. He cleared his throat and together, they stepped into the line of trees. “R-right,” Ron said. “I know I’ve been acting really weird lately and I know you’ve been really worried about it.”

“Am I about to find out what’s been going on?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.” Ron nodded and drew his wand. “I’ve been bloody stupid, trying to keep this from you. Hope you’ll forgive me.” Harry only stared at Ron expectantly. Ron took a deep, shaky breath and thought back on all the happy memories he had with Harry. Playing wizard’s chess in the common room, going to Hogsmeade together, nights spent laying beside Harry. Ron’s ears were pink as much from the cold as from being preemptively mortified about what he was doing. He rose his wand and bellowed “Expecto Patronum!”

Ron kept his eyes on the vibrantly shining doe and watched as it galloped elegantly through the trees before looping back and stopping in front of Harry. Ron chanced a glance at Harry and registered the look of shock on his face. He reached out to touch the doe but it vanished. Harry turned to Ron, still looking shocked. Ron blinked and looked away, then Harry grabbed him by the lapel of his cloak. For one horrified instant, Ron was sure Harry was about to clock him round the face but instead, miraculously, Harry hauled Ron down into a kiss.

Harry was kissing him and Ron was light headed almost to the point of passing out. He felt like the whole universe had disappeared around him and Harry. He wrapped his arms around Harry and kissed him back as though his life depended on it because, in that moment, it certainly felt like it did. He only broke the kiss when Harry suddenly felt much heavier in his arms, his knees having buckled. “S-sorry,” Ron muttered, panting. His lips felt burned.

“D-don’t apologize,” Harry said. He sounded equally breathless. “It’s not like I gave you any warning. Er, could you put me down?” Harry turned red and Ron released him. “I didn’t expect you to kiss back so…. erm, thoroughly.”

Ron let out a booming, awkward laugh. He couldn’t help it! Harry had just kissed him, which meant he was definitely not sore about the Patronus thing. “Suppose I couldn’t help it. Spent bloody _months_ fighting off the urge to say ‘to hell with it’ and snog you.”

Harry laughed, too. If Ron thought his laugh was musical before… “Months!” he burst out. “Months stacked up against my _years_.”

That stopped Ron about dead. _Years_? His head was swimming. Harry had wanted to kiss him for _years_. “Oh, bloody hell, Harry…” Ron moaned. “How’d you manage it? I thought I was going mad! This whole thing only started for me in the Summer. I think…” Ron frowned, thinking back. “I mean… I’ve always loved you, of course. I just… hadn’t had it in mind to, er… w-well, you know!”

Harry had a peculiar look on his face. For a moment, Ron thought he was about to cry, but Harry positively beamed at him. There was no other word for it. Now _that_ was a look that could turn a man inside out. “You said you love me.” Harry smirked.

“Yeah, well, bit obvious with the doe and everything, isn’t it?” Ron said.

Harry took Ron by the hand and he suddenly realized why Harry’s knees had buckled when he was kissing him. Ron felt like he didn’t _have_ knees for a moment and nearly tripped. “It’s still nice to hear.” Harry squeezed Ron’s hand. “I’ve loved you f-for a long time. I dunno if I can really say when it started. I almost kissed you more than once. In fourth year, when you came to see me after the first task…” Harry trailed off.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I might’ve slugged you. O-or fainted. Dunno…” Ron shrugged, chuckling. “Fourteen year old me wasn’t very slick. Matter of fact, I’m _still_ not very slick.”

“Summer before fifth year was the first time I ever wanted to kiss you _and_ punch you in the face in the same moment,” Harry said. “Had a bit of a temper, didn’t I?”

“Bit. I think when you weren’t biting me and Hermione’s heads off, you were in Detention or sulking in quiet. Not like I could blame you, mate,” Ron added hurriedly.

“I really thought you were going to marry Hermione, you know,” Harry said, sighing. “That’s why… I just tried to ignore the feelings. I figured if I tried dating a girl, m-maybe I could, er, force myself to be normal.”

“What? Normal?” Ron asked. “You mean, force yourself to be straight?” He was horrified at the very idea. “There’s no point to it.”

“I know that now, Ron,” Harry said. He gently squeezed Ron’s hand. “It was stupid. I should’ve just accepted it. It’s not like I could choose to be straight anymore than I’d chosen to be a Wizard. Or an orphan.”

Ron didn’t quite know what to say to that. He took a deep breath. “So, what’s this all mean?” Ron gestured between him and Harry with his free hand.

Harry glanced at Ron and then ducked his head, blushing. “I think it means we go on a date.”


	10. Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A DATE with Harry! It was a dream come true. Or perhaps a dream? No, this was real enough.

They walked hand-in-hand back through the streets to Harry’s house. Ron still had trouble thinking of it as home. He supposed that would change soon enough. Ron glanced at Harry, smiling. He couldn’t help it! Harry loved him! Harry had loved him a very long while now. Ron felt a tad irritated with himself for never noticing. Although, he supposed, Harry had been much better at hiding his feelings than Ron ever had been. “Where are we going to go?” Ron asked, breaking the not uncomfortable silence. “F-for our date, I mean?”

 

Harry pursed his lips and then broke into a wide grin. “I dunno. Sorry, I’m just… really… I never thought this would happen. I never dared to hope for it.”

 

Ron opened the front door and they released one another’s hands to step into the sitting room. “Me either,” Ron said. “I didn’t think you’d ever go for a guy like me.”

 

Harry raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh, c’mon, Ron. You must realize how drop-dead handsome you are.”

 

“Who? Me?” Ron laughed. “What are you talking about?”

 

Harry’s cheeks went ruddy and he ducked his head.  He was so cute. Ron wanted to tease him. “Y-you’re tall and, your eyes are th-the most lovely shade of blue and you’ve got this cheeky smile and perfectly kissable lips…” Harry trailed off, his voice going a bit weak at the end.

 

Ron wasn’t sure whether to feel embarrassed or pleased. “Y-you… blimey, is that really what you think?” Harry nodded. “D’you know…” Ron cleared his throat, nervous, but wanting to say his bit nonetheless. “Wh-when I look at you, it’s like all the lights in the world have gone out and you’re the only thing shining.” His ears were burning but at least, this time, Ron was prepared for it when Harry pulled him into a kiss.

 

While Ron would have been delighted to stay where he was and kiss Harry forever, he was hungry. Ron broke the kiss, grinning at Harry. “Good to know,” Ron said. “All I have to do is tell you what I really think of you.”

 

Harry swatted him. “C’mon. Let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

 

“Alright, but I’m buying,” Ron said. He walked back over to the door and paused with his hand on the doorknob. “There’s a great little diner on Diagon Alley.”

 

“Er,” Harry cleared his throat. “D’you know, I sort of… er, prefer to go to Muggle places to eat. I-it’s more private.”

 

How had Ron forgotten? If he went out on a date with Harry in the Wizarding world, Harry was likely to be approached by people and they wouldn’t get any peace. “Good point, that. I don’t carry muggle money, though.”

 

“I’ll get this one, you can get the next, alright?” Harry said.

 

“Right.” Ron opened the door and stepped out into the gray, chilly evening. In spite of the dismal weather, Ron thought it looked absolutely beautiful out. Everything seemed more vibrant, more colorful. “Do you have a place in mind?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I’ll just guide you.” Harry offered Ron his arm and Ron felt almost giddy as he took hold of it. They were going on a date! Ron worried for a moment that he was dreaming.

 

They emerged from the pressing darkness of Apparition in an alley behind a row of shops. Ron released his grip on Harry’s arm and they walked around to the street. Ron was suddenly very self-conscious of how shabby his clothing was. He realized almost too late that he was wearing a cloak in a muggle town and hastened to take it off. “Glad I’m not wearing robes,” Ron said, laughing.

 

“Oh,” said Harry. “I dunno why I didn’t think… you only have cloaks.”

 

“S’alright.” Ron grinned. “I should be okay.” He tugged at the neck of his sweater and wished, once again, he’d dressed a bit better.  But then Harry smiled and Ron forgot to be self conscious. “This it?” he gestured to a building.

 

Harry laughed. “That’s a barber shop.” He took Ron’s hand and lead him to the building directly following it. Ron could swear he felt prickles of magic in his fingers.

 

Ron was glad to release Harry's hand to sit down opposite him at a booth in the corner if only because his palm had gotten really sweaty. He grinned at Harry and followed the shorter man's lead in grabbing a menu.

 

"Something to drink?" a waitress had approached as soon as they'd opened their menus. Ron didn’t recognize any of the beverages so he ordered the same drink as Harry, something called "root beer." When the waitress walked away, they sat in silence for a few minutes while they both decided on what to order.

 

“So..." Harry said. Ron looked up and his response died in his throat. Had Harry always looked at him that way? With affection bordering on awe. Ron could do little else but stare into Harry’s eyes, rendered speechless under his gaze. “Er," Harry said after a prolonged silence. "Do you know, I can hardly believe I'm not dreaming."

 

Ron laughed. "That makes two of us, then." The waitress returned to take their orders and Ron had to look at his menu again to remember what he’d meant to order. Once she was gone, Ron and Harry fell again into silence until Ron cleared his throat and tried to work up the nerve to ask a question that both excited and terrified him. At that moment, however, a vaguely familiar voice called out "Potter!"  and they both swiveled in their seats to catch sight of Dudley Dursley, of all people hurrying up to greet them.

 

"It _is_ you!" Dudley exclaimed with an atypical level of delight as he slid into the booth beside Harry. "I can't believe it. I been hoping you'd call and check in now that you-know-who is gone."

 

Ron clutched his hand around his wand in his pocket but made no move to draw it.

 

Harry gave Dudley a very cold look. "Why would I do that? Depress the whole lot of you with the news I didn't snuff it."

 

Dudley shifted awkwardly in his seat. "I knew you'd survive..." Dudley cleared his throat and looked around at Ron. Ron's hand tightened still more firmly around his wand. "I remember you," he said, squinting. "You’re... er... Ray?"

 

"Ron," Harry corrected him before Ron could open his mouth. “What do you want?"

 

Dudley sighed and stood up. "Just wanted to say 'hello' and, er..." he cut a glance to Ron. "Tell you that Mr. Diggle told me all the stories about you a-and I wanted to say sorry for being so mean all the time."

 

"Okay," Harry said. "I accept your apology. Can we talk some other time?"

 

Dudley looked between Ron and Harry for a moment, clearly thinking hard. "Right. Sorry. I'm interrupting something." Dudley took a deep breath. "Take care, Harry."

 

"You, too, Big D." Harry waved lazily and Dudley left.

 

"Blimey..." Ron muttered. "Weird he'd turn up here."

 

"Er... we _are_ in Surrey so it wasn't that strange," Harry said.

 

Ron was sorely tempted to ask Harry why he'd choose somewhere he might run into his family but the waitress returned with their food. It was really delicious and Ron’s questions were lost in his enthusiasm for good food.

 

They ate and chatted about nothing in particular and Ron was struck by how natural it felt to be on a date with Harry. In fact, Harry seemed far more nervous than Ron. Clumsily knocking over the salt shaker and fussing with his food rather than eating it. His plate wasn't even half cleared when Harry stopped eating entirely. By that time, Ron was beyond finished eating but he decided not to pressure Harry to clear his plate. "Ready to go?" Ron asked. Harry nodded and stood with evident relief. Ron waited outside while Harry paid the bill. He was unspeakably pleased when Harry took hold of his hand as soon as he exited the little diner. "What do you want to do next?" Ron asked as they walked.

 

Harry paused. A sideways glance was enough to see that Harry was blushing furiously. "Er, if I'm honest, I'd really like to go straight home to bed."

 

Ron scratched his head with his free hand and gave Harry a puzzled look. "You’re tired already?" It was still light out.

 

"N-no. I..." Harry let out a nervous laugh that inexplicably inflamed Ron’s passions. “I want to take you to bed. Not to sleep."

 

Even with how blatant Harry was being, it still took a moment for Ron  to catch on. "Oohh!" Ron said. "Okay. But you can just tell me you want a shag. I'm not about to turn you down."

 

Harry made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle and pulled Ron sideways into an alley from which they could disapparate. Ron allowed Harry to tug him up the stairs by the hand but Harry paused in the hallway, looking at his bedroom door and then at Ron’s. “Er… d’you have a preference?”

 

“What?” Ron gave Harry a puzzled look, not quite understanding what he’d meant. To be fair, his mind was thoroughly preoccupied with thoughts of getting Harry naked. “You mean your room or mine? I’ll do whatever you want, wherever.” Ron smiled and was deeply amused by the way Harry seemed to freeze completely for a moment before nearly tripping over his feet turning around to open his bedroom door.

 

“Never claimed I was smooth,” Harry said, laughing slightly as he let Ron in before him.

 

Ron embraced Harry for a moment. When he drew away, he pressed a palm to Harry’s cheek and smirked at him. “Dunno what you’re so nervous about.”

 

“You wouldn’t,” Harry said. “You’ve apparently no clue how bloody handsome you are. Besides, I’ve, er, been in love with you a long time.”

 

Ron lightly traced Harry’s cheekbone with his thumb. “I love you, too, Harry.” Ron grinned. “Feels good to say it.” Ron stepped away from Harry and tugged his sweater off over his head. His white undershirt came with it and Harry’s warm hands were on Ron’s chest before he’d quite gotten his shirts off. Ron shivered under the touch and dropped his sweater on the floor.

 

Harry was grinning like an idiot and staring at Ron’s chest. Ron could swear he heard Harry mutter “Freckles,” under his breath.

 

“What?” Ron asked, smiling bemusedly.

 

“N-nothing.” Harry snapped his gaze to Ron’s face, his hands going still near Ron’s shoulders. “Just… admiring.”

 

“You goof.” Ron drew Harry up into a kiss and slowly lead him over to the bed. He thought he’d be the one nervous, all thumbs and stammering but Ron was pleasantly surprised to find that he didn’t feel anxious at all. Just a pleasant warm feeling in his stomach and absolute euphoria. Harry fumbled with his own shirt and Ron ended up helping Harry untangle his hair and glasses from his shirt.

 

“Dunno what’s the matter with me.” Harry blew at a stray bit of fringe that had gotten trapped under his glasses. Ron reached over and fixed it for him. “Feels like my brain’s stopped working.”

 

Ron laughed. “Harry, you’re… you’re so bloody cute sometimes. Don’t be nervous, c’mon…” Ron lightly chucked Harry on the shoulder with his knuckles. “We can just lay down together and make out or cuddle or something. Go slow about it.”

 

Harry shoved him. “Don’t call me _cute_. It’s… it gives me a weird squashy feeling. I don’t like it.” Harry sat down against the headboard and Ron sat beside him.

 

“Yeah, well, we’re even then, because it gives me a weird squashy feeling when you _act_ cute.” Ron smirked. Harry hit him with a pillow.

 

“I really don’t understand why I got all nervous like that,” Harry said, sighing.

 

Ron shrugged. “I wasn’t nervous at all.”

 

“That only made it worse,” Harry said laughing. “You were so cool and… I was going to pieces. Hardly seemed fair.”

 

“I just don’t see any reason to be nervous about it.” Ron shrugged again. “I mean, yeah, it’s kind of a big deal because we love each other and… and w-well, that’s really powerful magic somehow that I don’t fully understand but I just feel like… when I’m with you, I’ve got no reason to be scared or nervous about _anything_. I just know everything’ll be alright. And I can’t believe that sex with you will be anything less than spectacular. Er, wh-when you’re ready.”

 

“Right.” Harry hesitated for a moment and then sat up on his knees to kiss Ron. His hands were shaking slightly as they wound into Ron’s hair but Harry quickly seemed to forget his nerves. Ron ran his hands over every bit of Harry’s skin that he could reach. Harry was so warm and firm under Ron’s touch. Ron wanted to make a mental map of Harry’s body by touch alone. He kissed down Harry’s neck. “Mn, Ron, hold on.”

 

Ron sat back, smirking, positively _delighted_ he’d gotten a noise out of Harry. Even better, Harry moved away only to unbutton and tug down Ron’s pants. Ron lifted his hips and pushed down his boxers as well and that was when the nerves decided to hit him. Harry was just staring at him for an extended period and a hundred stupid thoughts went through Ron’s brain about how Harry might not like his body or that he was going to do something horribly embarrassing. “S-something wrong?” Ron asked.

 

Harry blinked and looked Ron in the eyes again. “Sorry. You’re just... “ Harry gestured feebly with his hands and then stripped down the rest of the way himself. Ron had barely a second to admire Harry’s lean body before Harry was kissing him again and Ron went back to exploring Harry’s body with his hands. “You’re really hot,” Harry said between kisses. “Couldn’t help staring a moment.”

 

At some point while they were kissing, Ron had slid onto his back with Harry on top of him. While he hadn’t expected to end up in this position, he wasn’t complaining. Harry was just heavy enough that he made a pleasant, warm weight on Ron’s chest and Harry applied the perfect amount of pressure with his kisses and touches. Ron was soon reduced to murmuring incoherent pleas against Harry’s lips and he felt like his skin was on fire when Harry sat up to draw breath. Ron let out a low, warbling moan as Harry’s ass rubbed up against his erection. “Harry,” Ron said. He licked his lips, not sure what he’d meant to say. “Wh-what d’you wanna…?”

 

“A-a pillow,” Harry replied. “Er, I-I mean, I need to put one under your back. You’re so tall and… er, d-do you mind having me on top?”

 

Harry was nervous again and, for whatever reason, it made Ron feel warm all over. He tried not to think about it. “Already said I’d do what you wanted.”

 

“Right.” Harry caught Ron’s gaze and grinned before climbing off. Ron tugged the pillow out from behind his head and stuffed it under his lower back while Harry rifled around in his bedside table for lube.

 

Ron felt like his muscles were buzzing and he was having difficulty forming any coherent thoughts. He experienced a fleeting moment of worry that he was already too worked up and he wouldn’t last through Harry prepping him.

 

“I could do it by magic,” Harry said as he knelt between Ron’s spread knees. “B-but I want to touch you. I know it takes longer.” Harry bit his lip and didn’t seem to want to finish his thought. He went about pouring lube onto his fingers. Ron was caught briefly mesmerized by the sight and he moaned.

 

“S’alright, Harry but y-you’re killing me, I swear. J-just want you so bad,” Ron was shocked by the words tumbling from his mouth. He’d had no intention of saying that.

 

Harry chuckled softly and Ron felt a sting of pride which was quickly pushed out of his mind by the feeling of Harry’s fingertips probing his ass. “Kept you waiting. I apologize.”

 

“Sh-shuddup-” Ron managed. It was difficult to talk. Harry’s fingers felt both uncomfortable and spectacular inside him and Ron moaned and gasped appreciatively. The feeling of Harry’s lips and tongue on the head of his dick registered long before Ron realized that Harry had gone down on him. He let out a string of colorful curse words and tugged on Harry’s hair to get him to back off. “I-if you do that, I’m toast,” Ron explained when Harry released him but he didn’t get another word out because Harry pushed another finger into him.

 

Harry’s movements were purposeful and loving. He peppered Ron’s thighs with kisses and hickies that Ron barely noticed over the overwhelming feeling of Harry’s fingers stretching and massaging inside him. It seemed like only moments later when Harry withdrew completely. Ron whined. “H-Harry, _please_ -” Ron moaned.

 

“I’m about to,” Harry said. Harry smiled at him and repositioned himself. A moment later, Ron felt the head of Harry’s erection pressed up against his ass and he had a fleeting thought that it felt bigger than it had looked and then Harry thrust into him and Ron saw stars. He must have made a hell of a noise, too because Harry was frozen above him. “A-are you alright?” Harry asked when Ron finally opened his eyes and looked up at him, ready to demand that he _move_.

 

“Fine. Brilliant.” Ron said. Actually, it hurt a little but Ron was so aroused and he just wanted Harry to move. He reached up and put a hand on Harry’s hip, just to be touching him somewhere.

 

Harry hesitated a few moments longer, looking up and down Ron’s body a few times before catching Ron’s eye and beginning to slowly rock back and forth.

 

The sensation was _incredible_. Harry seemed to fit him perfectly and there was something exquisite about the way they maintained eye-contact. Part of Ron wanted to look away, but he just couldn’t. Not until Harry changed angles and started aiming his thrusts right at Ron’s prostate, anyway. After that, Ron couldn’t keep his eyes open. He was biting hard into his lip, trying to last as long as possible but Harry started stroking him too and Ron came in moments, positively howling Harry’s name.

 

Harry came a moment later, pulling out at the last second. Ron felt Harry’s release splash against his balls. It was an interesting feeling mixed with the wave after wave of pleasure washing over him. As soon as Harry collapsed beside him, Ron wrapped his arms around Harry and held onto him tightly. He felt like he’d blast apart into a million pieces if he didn’t cling onto Harry. His heart was so full and he was so happy. His face hurt from grinning so hard and he must have kissed Harry a hundred times all over his face while Harry laughed and tangled his fingers in Ron’s hair. “You silly bastard,” Harry muttered once his breathing had evened out.

 

“I don’t care if it’s silly.” Ron loosened his grip but Harry stayed pressed up against him. “I’m feeling really affectionate right now.”

 

“Good…” Harry sighed happily and traced nonsense patterns on Ron’s chest. “We ought to wash up at some point.” Harry yawned.

 

“Nahh,” Ron said, he fumbled around on the side-table for his wand and found Harry’s instead. He shrugged and decided to use it anyway. “ _Tergeo_!”

 

“Oh, right,” Harry laughed.

 

Ron put Harry’s wand back and then moved around rearranging the pillows before settling in beside Harry again. For a long time, they did nothing more than lay together, snuggled close and lazily running their hands over each other’s bodies. “I love you,” Ron breathed against Harry’s ear.

  
“I love you, too,” Harry murmured into Ron’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut again! Also, this probably looks done, but it's so not. Please leave me reviews!


	11. Arrogant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron couldn't be happier. What the heck is bothering Draco?

Waking up next to Harry Potter was the single most glorious experience of Ron’s life up to that point. Harry was sleeping, curled up next to him and Ron remembered with a jolt that they were in Harry’s bed. It was bigger than the one in Ron’s room. It had a simple, oak headboard and the softest bright blue comforter. The room smelled like Harry and Ron felt like he was drowning in the scent. He let out a stupid, happy little sigh and leaned up on an elbow to look at Harry’s sleeping face for a moment. His hair was all askew and he looked completely relaxed apart from an occasional twitch of his eyelashes. Ron laid back down and closed his eyes, grinning. Where he’d once had an eternal ache in the center of his chest, he now felt like he was full of brilliant, warm light. 

“Ron?” Harry muttered, he lethargically flopped his hand over and made contact with Ron’s arm.

“Who else could it be?” Ron asked.

Harry sat up, blinking and rubbed his eyes. “Flobberworm.”

“Are you even fully awake?” Ron asked, biting his lip to keep himself from laughing.

Harry yawned and squinted at Ron. “S-sorry, I’m a bit of a mess when I first wake up.” He flashed Ron a simply stunning smile before leaning over to grab his glasses from the bedside table and shoving them on his face.

“I think you’re lovely,” Ron said before he could stop himself. He immediately felt like a damn fool but Harry leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. So he couldn’t berate himself long.

“C’mon, let’s-” Harry was interrupted by the doorbell. He scrambled out of the bed and Ron watched Harry hurriedly throw on a pair of pants and Ron’s discarded t shirt from the floor. They could hear Kreacher letting someone in and Ron threw his pants on as Harry rushed down the stairs. Meeting company without a shirt on seemed like bad form so Ron went back to his own room and donned a sweater before tracing Harry’s steps down into the living room. He caught a faint smell of burning hair before he saw Narcissa Malfoy, sitting on Harry’s couch. Her face was unusually pink and her hair was many inches shorter on the left side. Despite her appearance, she was sitting rather composedly with a teacup in her hand. Harry was sitting beside her, reassuring her in a low voice. “...never liked that house anyway, don’t worry about it too much.”

“What happened?” Ron asked, hopping down the last few stairs. 

“Someone set Grimmauld on fire last night while Narcissa was sleeping,” Harry explained. “She only woke up because of the mad portrait of Mrs. Black.”

“Her screaming woke me,” Narcissa elaborated. She set her teacup on the coffee table and folded her hands in her lap. “If I am not too hasty in assuming that whomever burned down the Manor is also responsible for the fire at the Black Mansion, we can rule out the Ministry. They wouldn’t dare do such a thing to property of Mr. Potter’s.”

“Please call me Harry,” Harry said. “And you’re probably right about that.” Harry shook his head and stood. “Which means someone’s after you.” He started pacing back and forth in front of the coffee table.

“Determining who that person is will be a challenge, to say the least,” Narcissa said. 

“Does Draco know about this?” Ron asked. “He should know someone’s after his mum. Blimey, they’re probably after him too!”

“Draco is safe, for the time being,” Narcissa assured him. “I’ve already spoken with him about this.”

Ron groaned. “This is completely mental.”

“I was not expecting the Wizarding community to accept me with open arms,” Narcissa admitted. “I suppose it was myopic of me not to assume threats on my life might be imminent.” 

Harry finally stopped pacing. “Ron?” he said. “Could I have a word with you in private?”

Ron gave Harry a bewildered look. “Sure. You don’t mind, do you, Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Not at all,” Narcissa said.

Ron followed Harry into the kitchen. Harry opened his mouth then shut it and drew his wand to cast muffliato at the door. “Not exactly how I envisioned this morning going,” Harry said. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Why are insane things always happening around me? Granted, this is less insane than usual.”

Ron let out a harsh bark of laughter. “It’s amazing, really. This doesn’t even come close to the top ten and it’s still pretty strange. So, what are you gonna do?”

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. “That’s why I wanted a private word. I think Mrs. Malfoy should stay here for a while. I have all sorts of wards and things, protective enchantments. There’s only the two bedrooms though so…” Harry cleared his throat. “I was going to ask if you’d stay in my room most nights anyway. Once we know no one’s going to try and set her on fire again, Mrs. Malfoy can move out and you could have your room back if you wanted.”

“Harry, I’ve shared a room with you for half a summer every year since we were 12. I don’t mind.” Ron grinned. “I can actually think of a few reasons that’s the best arrangement I could hope for.”

Harry laughed. “Alright, we’ll go tell her. You’re not working tonight, right?”

“Right.”

Harry only smiled and dropped the enchantment on the door. Ron followed him back through it. “Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Narcissa, please,” Narcissa corrected him.

“Er, alright. Narcissa, then. Do you, er, want to stay here for a while? Just until we find out who keeps setting your house on fire?” Harry asked. “I think you’ll be safer here than anywhere else. I have all sorts of magical protection. Plus, if someone tries to set this house on fire, it’ll narrow things down a bit.”

Narcissa shook her head. “That is very generous, but I have a few properties in other countries. Safe-houses, if you will. It may be wiser if I went abroad for a time. I came here…” Narcissa paused, pursing her lips together briefly in a way that reminded Ron of Professor McGonagall. “Well, I was hoping that you would look after my son. I know you haven’t always gotten along in the past but I would feel better knowing that you were looking out for him while I am gone.”

Harry frowned, thinking. 

“I’ll look out for him,” Ron said. “We work in the same bar and everything.”

“If he wants to stay here, he can,” Harry said. Ron gave him a stunned look but Harry appeared not to notice. “I’m pretty sure he won’t want to but it’s the least I can do, I suppose.”

“You are far too generous,” Narcissa said. “Thank you so much for being so kind to my family after everything you have suffered.”

“I-it’s not really…” Harry stared at his feet, his face going pink. “You both risked your necks for me during the war. I haven’t forgotten.”

Narcissa stood and took one of Harry’s hands in both of her own briefly. “You are a great wizard and a wonderful person. Not many are so capable of forgiveness.” With that, she departed and Harry finally seemed to notice the look Ron was giving him.

“What?” Harry asked.

“You just told her you’d let Draco stay here!” Ron said. 

“I already told you, Ron. I’m tired of all the animosity. Plus, I know he’s your friend and you’ll be less worried about him if you can be sure he’s safe.” Harry shrugged and then wrapped his arms around Ron’s waist. Ron pulled Harry close against his chest almost on reflex. “Let’s see what Kreacher’s made for breakfast.” 

“And then what?” Ron asked.

“Well, after we eat, I was thinking we could go back up to my room.” Harry looked up at him and Ron felt his throat go dry and his stomach did some interesting flipping things. “Something wrong?”

“N-no,” Ron said, smiling. “That sounds brilliant.” He pulled out of the hug but kept one arm around Harry as they walked to the dining room together. Somehow, he hadn’t expected Harry to be so keen to get him into bed. It reminded him a bit of Draco. Ron winced, slightly. He was going to have to say something to Draco the next day at work. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

= - =

The moment Draco Malfoy walked up to the Hog’s Head the next evening for his shift, he _knew._ He knew because of the clean dry sidewalk in spite of the previous night's ice storm. He knew because the windows were sparkling clean and the rough wooden door gleamed as if polished. As he stepped into the immaculate bar, over the shining stone flags, his heart sank in his chest. No evidence was more damning than the carefree demeanor of the redhead polishing the bartop to a rosy glow. Ronald was clearly happier than he'd been in months. It was in the relaxed set to his face, and the way he moved as if nearly levitating. “You spoke to Potter." Draco blessed Ron’s simple-mindedness because anyone smarter would have seen through his thin veil of nonchalance.

“You could say that," Ron replied. His grin confirmed Draco’s suspicion that Ron had no idea how the words stung.

“Finally." Draco walked around to stand behind the bar and took more time than was strictly necessary to don his apron and smooth out the wrinkles. When he finally looked up, he caught Ron staring at him curiously and fluttering panic flared up in his gut. "What?" he demanded, forcing irritation into his tone to mask his anxiety.

“You know, it's funny." Ron put his elbows on the bar and leaned toward Draco, curiosity still evident in his expression. "Seems like a few people _expected_ me and Harry to end up together."

"So what?" Draco snapped. He began needlessly straightening bottles on the shelf. 

There was a long silence, punctuated by the sound of glass clicking against wood before Ron spoke again. "How long have you known Harry's in love with me?" 

Draco gave Ron an icy stare over his shoulder but said nothing. He simply went back to toying with the perfectly organized and displayed bottles of rum.

“I thought so." There was a creak of leather as Ron leaned back on his barstool. "I also thought you were my friend."

Draco turned then, gaze narrowed. "What are you implying?" he demanded.

"A good friend wouldn't have let me pine after Harry if he knew Harry returned my feelings." Ron shook his head. "This has been bugging me all day. I figured you knew how he felt about me based on stuff you said before. I couldn't figure out why you'd let me suffer and kept just telling me to talk to him."

Draco shook his head, laughing coldly. "You are the worst kind of fool."

"Back to name-calling?” Ron asked. “What are you, 13?"

"Anything more complex would be beyond you."

Ron gave Draco a look that was equal parts hurt and bewildered. "I don't get you, Draco." Ron walked away and didn't speak to Draco again until closing. 

Draco poured a drink and sat at the bar, watching Ron clean up. His drink was a bit too strong, he supposed, because he was having more difficulty than usual not staring at the way Ron moved. It was visual poetry and Draco intended to commit it to memory. The view was all he would get from now on.

"I did know," Draco muttered breaking the strained silence. The alcohol had unlocked his tongue somewhat. "I knew you'd end up together eventually."

Ron paused in the middle of charming the grease off a table and gave Draco a confused frown. “I thought you'd be happy for me. You're talking like me being with Harry is some... some kind of personal tragedy."

Draco rolled his eyes and sipped at his whiskey. “How arrogant."

"What do you mean by THAT?" Ron asked, raising his voice even as color rose in his neck.

Draco drained his glass and pretended he couldn't hear Ron. 

"Why are you acting like we're still in school? Thought we got passed all that." When Draco continued to ignore him, Ron shook his head and gave up trying to get answers. "C'mon. I promised your mum I'd look after you and I mean to keep the promise even if you decided to be a prat again."

"How do you intend to do that?" Draco demanded. He really was in no mood to look at Ron, let alone allow him to be his keeper.

“Somebody's trying to hurt you and your mum. I'm gonna escort you home since it's dark out." Ron stood by the door and waited. 

Draco was only tipsy so his gait was looser than normal but he was not in danger of stumbling when he stood and joined Ron at the door. “I'm only going along because your ridiculous Gryffindor chivalry won't allow you to leave me be."

"Good enough for me." Ron locked up the bar and then grabbed Draco’s arm without preamble to apparate them to the dark alley behind Draco’s apartment complex. He released Draco immediately and paused, looking at him.

"You kept your promise," Draco headed off whatever Ron was about to say. "Leave."

Ron sighed. "See you tomorrow."

The moment, Ron disappeared, Draco's posture crumbled and he dragged himself dejectedly up to his room. "Why did I fall for an idiot?" he asked Sarafina. She gave no answer except to scuttle up the side of her terrarium in hopes of getting a treat.

= - = 

Ron was relieved to see Harry waiting up for him on the sofa even though he would normally prefer that Harry get a good night's sleep. Harry stood as soon as Ron entered the house and hurried to kiss him. “Welcome home," Harry murmured against Ron’s lips. Then he drew away, frowning slightly. “Something wrong?"

"I think Draco’s mad at me," Ron blurted out. "He was really immature tonight. Calling me a fool and stuff. Ignoring me when I tried to talk to him. You know, he knew you were in love with me? I'm the one who should be mad. Would've saved me a lot of agony if he’d clued me in. Everyone knows I'm slow."

"He's probably hurt that you chose me over him," Harry said reasonably. "And you’re not slow."

"I didn't _choose_ anyone. Draco made it pretty clear we were just fooling around. It’s not like he wanted to really be with me." 

“Are you sure? Sounds like he's jealous. You remember how I reacted to finding out you were messing around with him? This has to be worse." Harry led Ron over to the couch and snuggled against his side.

Ron put an arm around Harry, feeling the bewildered hurt begin to ease under his touch. "If he’d wanted to date me, he should've said so instead of telling me to talk to you all the time."

Harry was silent for a few minutes, apparently deep in thought. "That's a little weird, yeah."

“Isn’t it?” Ron rested his cheek on top of Harry’s head and marveled at how _easy_ it was just to relax and hold Harry. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. “He’s a weird guy, though.”

“He kept looking at you,” Harry said. “At Christmas, I mean.”

“Huh?” Ron leaned away from Harry and stared at him, brow furrowed. “How do you know that? You were staring at your plate the entire time.”

Harry laughed. “How do _you_ know _that_?”

Ron’s ears went hot. “I, er, k-kinda stared at you most of the night. Everyone at the table already knew I was bloody in love with you. They’d all been telling me for weeks so I figured.. I mean, if you hadn’t realized it by then, you were never going to notice. Never mind that, though.” Harry looked entirely too pleased and Ron was having a hard time deciding if he should be annoyed about that or not. “What do you mean Draco kept looking at me?”

“I _did_ look up from my plate a few times and Draco kept giving you this weird look. I think he was happy. Hard to tell with him.” Harry shrugged. “I thought maybe he liked you more than you were letting on.”

“Well, if he did, it’s not like I knew about it!” Ron threw up his hands in exasperation and then rubbed his eyes. “It’s late. We should be in bed already.”

Harry stood. “You can sleep in my bed if you like. I promise not to jump you until morning.”

“I’m gonna need to start sleeping better if I’m gonna keep up with you,” Ron said, grinning at Harry over his shoulder.

Sleeping better wasn’t in the cards that night for Ron or Harry, as it turned out. Barely two hours after they’d both dropped off to sleep, Ron was woken up by Harry thrashing around (he’d have bruises on his chest later). “Harry, wake up!” Ron said. “It’s alright! It’s just a bad dream.”

“W-we forgot one!” Harry said, wild-eyed as he sat up, gasping for breath. “The snake! We didn’t kill the snake.”

“Shh…” Ron reached over and gently rubbed Harry’s back. “Neville killed the snake with Gryffindor’s sword. It’s okay, Harry. That’s all over. You just had a nightmare.”

“Nightmare…” Harry murmured, blinking. “Right.” He rubbed sweat off his forehead with the sleeve on his pajamas and then slipped out of the bed. “M’alright. Just going to go wash my face. Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s okay,” Ron called softly to Harry’s retreating back.

It was a solid fifteen minutes before Harry returned, right as Ron was about to get up and go after him. “I’m really sorry,” Harry said. He pulled back the blanket and sank into the bed, yawning.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ron shifted around and spooned himself against Harry’s back.

“Was I flailing around?” he asked. “D-did I hit you at all?”

“Er…” Ron took a deep breath. “Yeah, a bit. Not too hard, though. I barely noticed.” That was stretching the truth but Ron didn’t want Harry to feel bad about his sleep habits. “Think maybe if I hold you like this, you won’t be able to flail as much?”

Harry yawned again. “I think if you hold me like that, I won’t have any bad dreams at all.”

 

= - =

Harry was still sleeping by the time Ron had to leave for work. He didn’t want to go without saying something but he also didn’t want to wake Harry up. Ron wrote a hasty note, _Harry, I love you! See you tonight, Ron._ As soon as he apparated to work, he felt instantly ridiculous and silly for having left a note and his ears were burning from that and the cold as he defrosted the windows. How long was it until Spring?

He finished polishing the bar right as Draco walked in. Ron watched him with some trepidation, tapping his fingers briefly along the top of the bar. 

“Staring, Ronald?” Draco asked. 

“Just…. Never mind.” Ron cleared his throat. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Why would I be angry?” Draco raised an eyebrow at the question. Ron wished he were better at reading people.

“I dunno,” Ron said, shrugging. “Something was seriously bugging you yesterday and you wouldn’t talk about it.”

“Don’t try reasoning things out, it’s too much for your brain.” 

It was pretty lucky that a customer walked in right then and left Draco occupied because Ron was having a hard time coming up with a sufficiently biting retort. Ron retreated to the back of the bar and sat down on the beat up old sofa across from Aberforth’s chair. 

“Everything okay up front?” Aberforth asked. He looked up over the top of his newspaper, surveyed Ron for a moment and then set it aside. 

“Bar’s clean, there’s one customer.” Ron shrugged. “Draco’s got it. I reckon it’ll be pretty quiet.”

“Probably so. Novelty of havin’ a war hero on my employ’s wearin’ off.” Aberforth chuckled. “It’s fine. Why’re you hidin’ back here? Thought you and Draco were pals now.”

“I thought so, too, but he’s been really weird the last two days. Acts like he’s mad at me and then pretends he’s not.” Ron slumped sideways against the arm of his chair and gazed moodily at the fire. 

“Huh. So he’s either mad and he thinks y’ought t’know the reason or he’s mad about somethin’ you did that he can’t talk about,” Aberforth said. “Figure it out. Or don’t. He’ll likely get over it eventually.”

Ron made a frustrated noise. “I _can’t_ just figure it out. I’m dumb!”

“Then don’t worry about it. He’ll forgive ya as long as y’didn’t break his heart.” Aberforth picked up his paper. “Git back t’work, now. I don’t pay you for the scintillating conversation.”

Ron had no choice but to spend the remainder of his shift out in the front, trying not to feel too bad about the icy silence. Or wonder too much about that ‘break his heart’ comment of Aberforth’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave reviews. Any old thing you can think of is fine.


	12. Diatribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a dragon scorned

Not for the first time, Draco knew what it was to exist in a hell of his own making. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to crack his teeth; they were endlessly clenched to hold a violent diatribe at bay. What he wouldn’t give to release it. How long had he been holding it in, now? A week seemed about right. It had started gathering at the bottom of his gut the moment Draco realized that Ronald had _finally_ broken down and confessed to Potter. Of course, he’d known damn well the day was coming. It had just proceeded far quicker than Draco had anticipated. Only now he was realizing that his affair with Ronald had ended much too _late_.

Thus, Draco’s personal hell, built by his own stupidity and carelessness. 

The most wretched part of it all was that some of the poison had leaked from Draco’s lips- words crafted by anger and jealousy that scorched his throat when he spat them at Ronald. It was only silence that allowed Draco not to spit bile and venom at the poor, stupid (bloody _beautiful_ ) bastard. After two days of speaking to Ronald only to hurl insults, Draco had fallen silent. He didn’t ignore Ronald. He looked at him, nodded when Ronald greeted him and went with him willingly when he insisted on seeing him to his door after work but he said nothing. It seemed that Ronald had given up attempting to speak to Draco himself. _Already._ This served only to intensify the hurt, in turn leading to increasing pressure on the diatribe. It had grown so massive, that Draco felt like he was going to be torn asunder and all the ugly, violent words would fly out from his being and lacerate everyone in their path.

Draco was in hell and that gorgeous, cursed moron was as much to blame as he was.

After a long week of working alongside the man who had unknowingly _wounded_ him to his core, Draco spent his days off lounging in his apartment, watching Sarafina or holding her. She was something of a balm on his agony. He whispered to her all the awful things he wanted to say to Ronald, occasionally reminding her that the words were meant for someone else. Doing this helped to relieve the pressure. By the time he had to walk into work again and face the blissfully happy and blissfully ignorant, Ronald, the diatribe had lessened to a glowing coal in the pit of his stomach. He could stand it. He could ignore it. And he reminded himself of this when he opened the door of the Hog’s Head that day.

“Good evening,” he said to Ronald as he walked by the table he was sitting at. The bar was immaculate as it had been every night for the last week.

“Hey,” Ronald said. He stood suddenly and knocked his chair sideways with an irritating scraping sound. “You said _words_.”

Draco paused and bit the tip of his tongue lightly to _literally_ bite back a sarcastic comment. It took him a moment to think of something to say that wasn’t deeply insulting. “That I did.” He stepped around the bar and hung up his cloak in the nook at the back corner. He took as much time as possible to put his apron on and smooth out the creases. Anything to buy himself time before he had to look at that devastatingly handsome- absolute _sonuvabitch._

“I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

Draco started. He’d been so intent on what he was doing, that he hadn’t noticed Ronald approaching the bar and leaning over it. A step backwards took Draco far enough away that he couldn’t smell Ronald. Looking at him and hearing his voice, Draco could endure but that scent had the ability to break him. “I wasn’t in the mood to chat.”

Ronald leaned back and sat down on the stool behind him. “Alright, then.” Draco felt an annoying stab of pride for Ronald when he saw the disbelieving look on his face. At least he wasn’t dumb enough to fall for _that_ obvious lie. “Well, whatever it was I hope you’re not going to do it again. It sucks working with someone who won’t talk to you.”

“I hadn’t realized my silence had any affect on you at all,” Draco said flatly because he just _couldn’t stop himself._ Draco bit his tongue a little bit harder until he felt a shooting pain surge through his mouth. 

Ron rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well. I just want to put the whole thing behind us, if that’s possible?”

_Never in a trillion years._ Draco gnawed on his lip and tasted blood. “It very well may be,” he said. 

It was an uncharacteristically busy night, thank Merlin for small favors. Keeping all the pain-fueled rage at bay was making Draco’s mouth throb with pain and he was sorely tempted to down a shot of tequila to numb him in more ways than one but Draco maintained his cool professionalism and didn’t break Aberforth’s rule. At any rate, using alcohol as a crutch was for lesser mortals. Surely, this would get easier over time.

Unfortunately, hope was for lesser mortals, too.

= - =

“Good day?” Harry asked, looking up over the top of his current book. 

Ron grinned and hung up his cloak. “You can tell that the second I walk in?” He kicked off his shoes and joined Harry on the couch. He _knew_ the look on his face was sappy as hell. He could see it reflected in Harry’s glasses but he didn’t give a single iota of a damn. 

“I can tell.” Harry set his book aside. “You looked even happier than normal.”

“Probably because I was looking at you, idiot.” Ron nudged Harry with his shoulder. “But yeah, Draco decided to stop giving me the silent treatment.”

Harry frowned. “Had he been?”

“Oh, right…” Ron laughed. “I forgot to mention it because you normally start groping me the second I walk in the door every night.”

“I do not!” 

Ron snorted. “I beg to differ.” He indicated his thigh which Harry had been caressing since the moment he’d set his book down. 

Harry took his hand away, laughing and ducking his head. “Don’t even know I’m doing it…” he muttered. 

“It’s fine. I dunno why, but I didn’t really expect you to be so… erm…” Ron looked around the room, as if that would supply him with the word he needed. “Handsy.”

Harry gnawed on his lip, clearly embarrassed and Ron tried not to think too hard about why that look was so sexy on Harry’s face. “I mean, blimey, look at you,” Harry blurted, giving Ron a once over and gesturing at him for good measure.

“What’s that even _mean_ mate?” Ron smirked. He thought he had a good idea what Harry was driving at but he thought it was daft.

“Who _wouldn’t_ want to put their hands all over you the instant they see you? I’ll admit, I’m biased but really.” Harry traced a feather-light pattern on Ron’s wrist. “You’re like…” Harry screwed up his face, thoughtful. It was the cutest expression and made Ron want to snog Harry senseless. “A-a sunrise in human form. Blimey, I’ve been reading too many fantasy novels.”

“Harry…” Ron said. He had to get Harry to stop saying these things. His guts were twisting themselves into knots and he had a different sort of ache in his chest. It felt weirdly good but it was confusing at the same time. He couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say, however so he kissed Harry and tried to pour all the feelings into the kiss. 

Predictably, Harry kissed back eagerly, all but climbing into Ron’s lap. Not content to be straddled, Ron held Harry against his chest by his back and maneuvered Harry onto his back, Ron looming over him. Harry let out a gasp, breaking the kiss and looking up at Ron curiously. “What’s got into you?” Harry asked, sounding amused.

Ron simply grinned at him and pushed up Harry’s shirt. He pressed light kisses across the strip of exposed skin and smiled when he felt Harry shudder beneath his lips. “You did,” Ron breathed against Harry’s abdomen. Then he stood up. “C’mon upstairs.”

For a moment, Harry only gazed up at Ron in bemused silence. He blinked and stammered. “Wh-what?”

Ron laughed. “My room, this time,” Ron said. “I can’t shag you on a couch.”

“Why not?” Harry sat up.

“It’s not big enough.” Ron grasped Harry’s elbow and helped him to his feet. He kept a hand at the small of Harry’s back as they walked up the stairs and Ron amused himself by watching Harry’s knees nearly buckle when he inched his hand lower. 

By the time they reached Ron’s bedroom, Ron’s heart was thudding against his adam’s apple. He kept his eyes on Harry as he tugged a worn but soft sweater off over his head and then his t-shirt. He started to reach for his belt when Harry swatted his hands away and dropped to his knees to undo the belt himself. Ron watched, fascinated as Harry tugged his pants and boxers down around his ankles and lightly ran his fingers along the length of Ron’s erection. Harry’s fingers were so warm and his touch tingled as if Ron could feel Harry’s magic through his fingertips. Ron swallowed against a suddenly dry throat and gently removed Harry’s glasses for him. 

"It smells good in here,” Harry murmured. Ron jumped slightly as he felt Harry’s hot breath on his erection. Harry gave Ron a few teasing licks and then stood up, shedding his clothes. The shy way Harry squinted at Ron once he was naked gave Ron the peculiar sensation that his blood was on fire. Before he’d registered a single thought, he’d pulled Harry against him, lifting the shorter man off his feet into a kiss. Harry shifted his weight against Ron at the same moment hooking his ankle around the back of Ron’s knee. The movement over-balanced the pair and Ron fell backwards, sprawling on the bed, Harry’s forehead collided with Ron’s chin when they landed. Harry shifted up on his knees astride Ron’s waist, rubbing his forehead. 

“S-sorry, I-” Harry stammared.

“Trusted me not to drop you,” Ron leaned up on his elbows. “S’alright.” He laughed and briefly rubbed his jaw. It hurt a bit but he wasn’t going to complain. Not when Harry was straddling him nude. 

“I’m a right menace,” Harry murmured. He squinted down at Ron’s chest and drew patterns across his collar-bone with teasingly light touches. All too soon, he drew away and stood. “Get on the bed properly.” 

Harry turned and started digging through the top drawer of Ron’s dresser. Ron sat up and watched, remembering at the last moment to scoot back up the bed the right way around. 

Harry was on him a moment later, pressing the cool bottle of lube into Ron’s hand before kissing him. Ron fumbled one handed with the bottle while Harry kissed and sucked at his neck. He spilled not a small amount of lube on his blanket, fumbling as he was. He shifted under Harry until his erection nudged against Harry’s. Harry sucked in a breath and caught Ron’s lip between his teeth at the contact, then he moaned into Ron’s mouth when Ron wrapped a lube slick hand around both of their cocks and started stroking. It wasn’t something Ron had ever tried before but he found he enjoyed it. The feeling of Harry’s prick rubbing against his own as they kissed was exciting. Harry was letting out keening noises that sounded to Ron as if he were trying to hold them back. 

Ron lost himself in the way Harry moved on top of him, their dicks sliding together against his palm. He was so mesmerized by the feeling of Harry’s lips and the smell of his skin that he was caught unaware by his own climax. He suddenly arched against Harry, crying out a series of colorful expletives which Harry cut short by kissing him. Harry rutted for a few moments longer against Ron’s waning erection before orgasming with a soft groan. Ron wrapped him in a tight embrace as soon as Harry collapsed against his chest.

They lay there, panting for a few moments before they caught their breath. “I’m not going anywhere,” Harry muttered, his tone amused.

“What?” Ron asked.

“You’re holding me really tight.” 

Ron loosened his grip fractionally. 

“It’s okay,” Harry assured him.

Ron kissed Harry’s cheek. He didn’t know how to explain this strange feeling he had that he’d fly apart into a million pieces if he let go of Harry right now. As he was drifting off later that night, after cleaning spells and turning out the lights, Ron remembered Draco once asking him, _“You've never cum so hard you have to hold onto something?”_

= - =

Ron woke after Harry the next day and hopped in the shower while Harry went down to see what Kreacher was making for breakfast. He was in a really good mood, almost humming when he got down to the dining room and instantly knew something was wrong. Harry was sitting up, ramrod straight in his chair, looking at a piece of parchment with wide-eyed horror. “What is it?” Ron asked, anxiety levels soaring through the roof.

Harry looked up at him. “It’s from Hermione. We… we forgot to tell her about us. She’s really hurt.”

“Oh shit!” Ron slapped himself on the forehead, wincing. “How’d she find out? We haven't even told my folks yet. We weren’t in the Prophet?”

“No, there hasn’t been an article…” Harry cleared his throat. “Luna told her.” There was a curious edge to Harry’s voice when he said this. 

“Luna?” Ron asked. “I didn’t say anything to Luna. I mean, she saw my Patronus and everything…”

Harry tossed the parchment aside. “We have to go see her. She’s been… she’s known for a long while now about, erm, my feelings for you. We really ought to have told her…”

Ron groaned. “And all my family. It’s not going to be a problem, just… mum’ll be revolting and George’ll never stop taking the mickey.”

“Ron, we have to go see Hermione,” Harry repeated. He was already standing up and shoving his breakfast aside. “As soon as possible. I…” Harry cleared his throat and rubbed at his shoulder. “I miss her terribly. I almost wish I’d gone back to Hogwarts.”

Ron was stopped short by that pronouncement. He hadn’t forgotten about Hermione so much as he’d been trying not to think about her too much, given that their last few interactions had been mortifying. Ron gathered Harry into his arms in a firm hug and kissed the top of his head. “What are we waiting for?” 

Harry smiled and drew away. It seemed like only seconds later that they were walking down the lane from Hogsmeade station. Harry was staring glumly at his feet as they walked. Ron smiled bracingly when they reached the flanked gates. They opened as the pair approached and Harry sent a Patronus ahead to alert McGonagall to their presence.

“Why'd you tell Luna to teach me that instead of you doing it?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. “I'd been having difficulty casting my Patronus after the war. I wasn't sure I _could_ teach you."

“Oh…” Ron felt his ears grow hot. “That makes sense. It’s a tough spell at the best of times.”

Harry smiled and nudged Ron with his elbow. “It’s alright. I knew I could do it again when I saw your doe.”

Ron nearly slipped in an icy patch. “Y-yeah, well…”

“I thought it was-...” Harry stopped in his tracks and muttered something that sounded a lot like “bloody hell,” under his breath.

Ron paused at Harry’s side and looked up toward the entrance to the castle. Even at a distance, he recognized Hermione by her impossible hair and the slightly lopsided way she was running, a permanent limp she’d developed over years of carrying heavy books. He and Harry stood there, side by side, both with their hands over their wands. One could never be too careful when Hermione Granger was upset.

Rather than hexing the pair of them, Hermione launched herself at them, nearly strangling them in a tight hug as she half-laughed, half-cried. “Y-you wretched-... Oh, I’ve missed you- I can’t believe…” She tugged herself away from the hug and whacked each of them upside the head. “How could you…? To hear from Luna Lovegood of all people- Never in my life!”

“Slow down, Hermione,” Harry said. He hastily wiped at his eyes. “I missed you, too. And I’m really sorry we didn’t tell you.”

“Dunno how Luna even really knew,” Ron said. “I mean, yes, she knew how I…” Ron cleared his throat.

“Luna’s always been alarmingly apt,” said Hermione. She took a few deep breaths. “Listen, I’m very pleased for you that you’ve both finally worked this out but I’m still furious.” 

Harry and Ron caught one another’s gaze and smirked. They could both see that her anger was mostly a show at this point and would fade once she felt they’d been punished enough.

The trio spent a lively couple of hours talking in the courtyard, warmed by one of Hermione’s portable fires. By the time Ron had to leave for his shift, he had a hard time releasing Hermione from his hug good-bye. “You’ll come by for Easter break, yeah?”

“Of course.” Hermione pulled away and patted Ron on the arm. “Write to me, okay? I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Ron said. 

“So do I,” Harry chimed in. He hurried forward to hug Hermione. He whispered something to her before pulling away. “C’mon, Ron. I’ll walk you into work.”

= - =

It was one thing for Draco to have to prepare himself every afternoon to go in and face that beautiful git and quite another to walk in the door and see him sitting at the bar, laughing happily at something Ronald had just said. 

They hadn’t seen him yet, so Draco had a few moments to steel himself and mold his expression into something neutral. He felt a roiling heat in his gut, all the horrible feelings rising up again, begging to be released. “We haven’t officially opened yet,” Draco snapped as he stalked in behind the bar to hang up his cloak and don the apron he had to wear.

“Aberforth said it was okay,” Potter said, cutting across Ron who had opened his mouth to say something. 

“Of course, exceptions must be made for old war heroes,” Draco hissed. He couldn’t hold the feelings in and who better to focus them on than Potter? There was surely no way this could backfire. “Allowances not fit for normal people.”

“Draco,” Ron cut in. “That’s out of order, mate.”

“It’s alright, Ron.” Potter stood and touched Ron’s shoulder. He met Draco’s gaze and Draco felt a shiver of apprehension. There was no questioning Potter’s power. From the moment Draco had met the miserable green-eyed moptop, Potter had always had the power to infuriate Draco with seemingly no effort. 

“What are you staring at?” Draco snapped, tearing his gaze away. He didn’t like the way Potter looked at him, with _recognition._

“Malfoys only want the best of the best, right?” Potter asked.

Draco looked at him again. HIs fingers itched to curl around his wand and hex Potter to kingdom come. “So?”

The smug look on Potter’s face was just begging to be punched off but before Draco could finish weighing the likelihood that he’d come away unscathed, Potter had said goodbye to Ronald and walked out.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” Ronald demanded. 

Draco gave a start, he’d been lost in thought, trying to cool the rage. “You could never possibly fathom the depths to which I loathe that man,” Draco hissed. Then immediately regretted it. Ronald didn’t deserve this bile. Draco was really beginning to hate himself. 

“I don’t understand what your problem is,” Ronald said. “It’s like you’re two different people sometimes. I’ve had a lot of fun working with you over the months and getting to know that you’re not just a bloody wanker. I don’t get why you have to turn mean and nasty sometimes. But this thing with Harry? It’s really getting old. We’re not in school anymore.” Ron brushed past him before Draco had a chance to reply. 

It was a slow night at the bar. The cold February winds were particularly biting and miserable flecks of ice were pelting the streets and windows with unreasonable force. Consequently, the night was spent mainly in tense silence, broken by the occasional customer who never lingered very long.

An hour before closing time, Draco could tolerate the tension no longer. He walked over to the corner table Ron had taken up in some time ago when it became clear no more customers were coming. “I’m sorry,” the words fell out of Draco’s mouth before he’d fully made up his mind to apologize. He slid into the chair opposite Ron and stared at the gleaming table-top. 

“You’re apologizing to the wrong man,” Ronald said.

Draco chanced a glance at Ronald’s face. It was closer quarters than Draco usually allowed. A hint of Ronald’s heady scent wafted into Draco’s nose and he slouched in his chair. It was pathetic how such proximity to Ronald could strip away so much of Draco’s will and pride. “I should not have been so hostile toward Potter. He was nothing but polite.”

“Then why were you such a prick earlier?” Ronald asked. “I’m really hoping there’s a good explanation. Something other than ‘I hate him’ because it’s bloody ridiculous. He saved your life. He stopped you going to Azkaban, got your mum released. What’s he done lately to deserve this shit?”

Draco took a shaky breath. He didn’t have the _courage_ to withstand this. No one to talk to about it aside from Sarafina and tarantulas didn’t give very good relationship advice. “It’s not his fault. I will apologize to Potter.”

“That’s not an explanation. You’ve been acting daft for weeks now, what the hell is going on?” Ron demanded. “Are we friends or not?”

“Of course we are,” Draco said hastily. He couldn’t afford to lose Ronald’s friendship. It wasn’t Ronald’s fault he didn’t return Draco’s feelings. The thought of standing by and watching Ronald be with someone other than him was painful but it was nothing to the searing agony Draco felt when he thought of not even being Ronald’s friend.

“It just…” Ron looked around the bar, lowering his voice and he leaned toward Draco. Draco fought the impulse to lean away, or lean forward and kiss him. _No!_ he told himself firmly. 

 

“What?” Draco asked, trying not to sound like the breath had just been sucked out of his lungs. 

“I-it seems like you’ve been, er…. weird ever since we stopped… I-I dunno, I want to think you weren’t just… after my arse o-or something. Now it sorta seems like you’ve got what you wanted and can’t be bothered to stay my friend.”   
Anger such as Draco hadn’t felt in years threatened to burst out of him then. He stood, chest heaving as he struggled to master himself. The light above their table flickered warningly and Ronald looked alarmed. “Got what I wanted?” Draco hissed. “You don’t have a _clue_ what I wanted.” He slammed his palms down on the table and Ronald lept to his feet, wand half drawn. “How could you accuse me of being so callous as to be intimate with someone and then walk off like nothing ever happened? If you were any more oblivious, you’d be walking into walls. I know you were too dumb to notice Harry Potter salivating over you for the past four years or so… Thing he’d miss the most… Couldn’t have been plainer.”

“So, you _did_ know that Harry was in love with me?” Ron asked. “And you never told me. You were the one person who knew that didn’t owe him their damn silence about it. Hell, you owed it to _me_ to tell me about it right? Since we’re supposed to be friends?”

Draco froze. He hadn’t meant to reveal that much. Damn Ronald. Damn him his ability to make Draco forget himself completely. “I…”

“I’d already pretty much worked that out myself. I just can’t fucking understand-”

“Hey!” Aberforth cut Ronald off, ambling up to them. “What’s all th’ cursin’ and shoutin’ about?”

“Draco and I are having a disagreement,” Ronald said.

“Be quieter about it,” Aberforth admonished them. He gave them both a piercing look and then turned and walked away.

“I can’t understand,” Ron continued much more quietly. “Why you’d do that. Unless you wanted to get at me before he had the chance.”

In the span of a second, Draco went through his entire library of curse words silently in his head. 

“That was it then?” Ronald demanded. His ears were redder than Draco had ever seen and his voice was shaking with anger. “You wanted a turn and knew you wouldn’t get a chance if I was with Harry, right? Because you and every-damned-body else knew how me and Harry felt about each other.” Ron shook his head, face etched with disgust. “I hope the sex was worth it. If it even measured up to your standards.”

Something inside Draco seemed to crack when Ronald said that and a fatal bit of truth leaked out the gap. “I’ll let you know when I have someone to compare you to,” Draco snapped. He threw his apron down on the counter and stalked toward the door. “I quit!” he shouted and he apparated as soon as he set foot out the door.

His head was spinning and he was so full of anger that he barely noticed where he was going as he walked up to his apartment. He walked around, kicking his furniture and raging, so intent on his anger that it took him longer than it ought to have done for him to notice the smell of burning wood in the air and the thick black smoke curling underneath his front door.


End file.
